I'm so sick of the drugs not working,
the cuts not calming.
I'm I'm so sick of people trying to control me,
saying I have no life.
What's the point of living then?
Knowing I have no say,
knowing there's nothing to ease the pain.
I'm just so sick of it,
all of it!
There's just no point!
So I'll turn my blade to the sharpest blade,
now you know why I wrote my last good-bye.