Just so alone. What’s the point in living on this alien planet when you’re alone? All alone. No one to guide me. Just rotting away and no one cares. I’m rotting away. No one seems to understand that I’m rotting away. No one takes it into account that I’m rotting away. you don’t notice that I’m rotting away I’m not proud of who I am. I wish I was someone else. I wish and I wish but good things don’t always come to you. Good things don’t always come to you. Or to me. Good things don’t always come our way. I missed that feeling of the blade pressing into my skin and piercing my vein. My blood just appearing almost from nowhere and spilling onto the floor and then feeling light headed and attempting to bandage myself up or putting hair spray into the deep ones. I missed you. And you were almost like an excuse to do it again. Hide away and die a recluse. I’m dying a recluse. Bags on my feet. My naked body just lies here. I wonder if I died would you continue to fuck me. Its okay you can’t live forever and neither can I and things won’t get better for either of us. Your just a lose case in a world full of scum. A world full of men just like you. You’re just a lost case when you’re in my bed. You’re just a lost case with your hands over my mouth. You’re just another lost case in a world full of scum. And things won’t ever get better for either of us. I remember it all and I won’t ever forget. How could I? You’re a permanent scar on my mind. The deepest cut. You’re the deepest cut. Just torn apart inside daddy and it won’t get better for either of us. It just can’t get better for either of us. What happens to little girls like me? Little innocent children who sleep in a [chamber of hysterics] and lie in a bed of filth and shiver under a monster who’s only thought is sex – well we don’t live and we don’t get married and we often turn into self harmers because we feel guilty and we blame it all on ourselves. Sometimes we just cant open up to people. It’s just impossible to talk because my mouth is clamped shut and I blame myself over and over. The record in my head tells me I’m to blame and it just won’t stop. And I won’t ever have the joy of feeling beautiful and I won’t ever have the joy of peace. And I can’t ever trust you again – which is a shame really…we could have had such a good relationship – we have so much in common. But we both destroyed it and we won’t get it back. You can’t build an empire out of broken pieces of me. That’s all there is now.. Just shattered me. And it won’t get better for either of us. So we might as well just die.