All my flesh is disappearing
All my bones stick to my skin
My veine are an infinite flow of pain and suffering
Like a puppet, I'm dead inside
Sometimes, I buy a smile
To forget I'll soon be dead.
To hold my own head on my thin neck make me bleed
What are you saying?
I'm not mad!
What do you mean?
Yes I'm fine!
Do you love me?
Oh, I loathe myself!
And no one else can feel my distress
That's all, my movements are becoming a macabre dance
And my heart a dry rock

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