You don't know what it's like to want to rip your stomach
out. To want to crush it under a heavy boot, just because
it's doing the things it's supposed to. It digests food you
don't eat, it flips and turns when you're nervous, and it
fills to the brim when angered.

You don't know what it's like to to want to crush your own
head in your hands for just the little things. Because you
were thinking, because you were lieing, because you were
being a manipulative bastard again, it just isn't as
wonderful as you thought it would be

... To live and to love, to cry and to die. You make friends
only to lose them and you climb to the top only to have
everything taken from you. That natural high of having
everything, of having absolutely nothing and being happy
with it.

You don't know what it's like to treasure the small things,
to only have the small things, and just when you thought the
small things were enough... They're gone. Someone just
doesn't want to see you happy.

I lie, and I cry, and I'll eventually die. But when my head
is pounding so hard that I can't hear or think. And when my
heart is beating so fast against my lungs, I can't breathe.
And when one little mistake can suddenly affect everything
around me, it hurts...

It really, really hurts...