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Description
Emo(tional)

Takes a toll on all of us. The best of us. The worst of us. Ramblings, dreamings, going on inside her mind, tearing, ripping, making her want to die.

If this is what I feel,
Then tell me this ain't real,
Because I don't want to know,
And I don't want to go.

Her mind is like a shadow, a shadow of a stronghold. You drop one stone, a million more to go. The ripples in the pond wander across your eyes, beckoning you to follow in their bloody wake.

Sweeping me off my feet,
I just don't want this heat,
Off my skin, my face,
Save me from this dire race.

Razor-blade dreams, razor-blade schemes. They fill her mind, torture her soul. She wants to love, to be loved, but can she ever have that happiness? Forever it seems to be in servitude to others, she awaits the day she can finally leave.

Like water for chocolate,
She spills her mind to this matte,
Of a fine-toothed comb,
And a dark lonely tomb.

Sickening sickening the crunch of bones, feel how they tremble beneath your fingers. Your own blood, spills out onto you, and you feel relieved, as if a sudden weight is lifted from your heavy shoulders. You sigh in relief, and fall back in the seat, pouring your sweet life-liquid over your shivering form. Drinking heartily from your wrist, you feel your teeth sharpen, begging for more. Erotic dances file through your skin, and once again, you're happy. Happy because you know no one can save you, and happy because you don't want or need to be saved. Your life is perfect; now you stitch up your wound, still licking at the drops of blood that seep from it's tight pact. There is no other sanctuary than this, the sexy, erotic orgasm of death.

Does she really need to be saved?
Or has the road just been paved?
Set her on the path to death?
Or let her reap the passion of meth.

Heroine, deadly as it may seem. Methamphetamine, cautious as you may be. The rape continues, her nipples assaulted, assuaded, for serial killers know how to fuck. How to fuck and run amuck. How liberal, how entertaining.

Straining the boundaries of society,
A fucked up place called reality,
To take the grace,
To save your face...

See what she means? See how her wrists bleed and bleed and bleed... She burns for someone to love, and yet... no one will love her. No one will listen to her cries of pain as they whisper, shout about the new flames! No one will come to her side to soothe the burning of her soul as the constant talk of "I love _____! I love ____!" Because it's not her.
It never was her.
Never to be her, never to see her. What is this wont, this... need?

To take your life apart and watch it bleed?

I want to see the memories, floating in your head.

Hold it down, one more time, and oops! Now you're dead.

You bled too much! cried the doctor she said. Can't now even give you any new. She rakes the scars against her face, trying to save her from such disgrace, but never will it help, never will it work, because vain is vain and vanity is a sin.

She will, forever be...

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Description
Emo(tional)

Takes a toll on all of us. The best of us. The worst of us. Ramblings, dreamings, going on inside her mind, tearing, ripping, making her want to die.

If this is what I feel,
Then tell me this ain't real,
Because I don't want to know,
And I don't want to go.

Her mind is like a shadow, a shadow of a stronghold. You drop one stone, a million more to go. The ripples in the pond wander across your eyes, beckoning you to follow in their bloody wake.

Sweeping me off my feet,
I just don't want this heat,
Off my skin, my face,
Save me from this dire race.

Razor-blade dreams, razor-blade schemes. They fill her mind, torture her soul. She wants to love, to be loved, but can she ever have that happiness? Forever it seems to be in servitude to others, she awaits the day she can finally leave.

Like water for chocolate,
She spills her mind to this matte,
Of a fine-toothed comb,
And a dark lonely tomb.

Sickening sickening the crunch of bones, feel how they tremble beneath your fingers. Your own blood, spills out onto you, and you feel relieved, as if a sudden weight is lifted from your heavy shoulders. You sigh in relief, and fall back in the seat, pouring your sweet life-liquid over your shivering form. Drinking heartily from your wrist, you feel your teeth sharpen, begging for more. Erotic dances file through your skin, and once again, you're happy. Happy because you know no one can save you, and happy because you don't want or need to be saved. Your life is perfect; now you stitch up your wound, still licking at the drops of blood that seep from it's tight pact. There is no other sanctuary than this, the sexy, erotic orgasm of death.

Does she really need to be saved?
Or has the road just been paved?
Set her on the path to death?
Or let her reap the passion of meth.

Heroine, deadly as it may seem. Methamphetamine, cautious as you may be. The rape continues, her nipples assaulted, assuaded, for serial killers know how to fuck. How to fuck and run amuck. How liberal, how entertaining.

Straining the boundaries of society,
A fucked up place called reality,
To take the grace,
To save your face...

See what she means? See how her wrists bleed and bleed and bleed... She burns for someone to love, and yet... no one will love her. No one will listen to her cries of pain as they whisper, shout about the new flames! No one will come to her side to soothe the burning of her soul as the constant talk of "I love _____! I love ____!" Because it's not her.
It never was her.
Never to be her, never to see her. What is this wont, this... need?

To take your life apart and watch it bleed?

I want to see the memories, floating in your head.

Hold it down, one more time, and oops! Now you're dead.

You bled too much! cried the doctor she said. Can't now even give you any new. She rakes the scars against her face, trying to save her from such disgrace, but never will it help, never will it work, because vain is vain and vanity is a sin.

She will, forever be...

E
M
O
-
-
-
-
T
I
O
N
A
L
-
-
-
-