It'll be a Sunday...the same day I was born. My eyes will be wet with fresh tears, I'd lie across the floor, my body frozen in sorrow and all alone...the same way I was born. My hands would seem like they are hugging the icy floor, longing to hold on to the little bit of life that's inside of me...the same spirit I was born with. People would surround my body and look at me...in the same manner they did when I was born. I'd have a diary of my life left behind, few feelings given a voice, few unheard thoughts let out...like the same cries that I cried when I was born. I'd be long-gone from the past yet so sure I'll be in the future...the same hunger that I crawled out of the womb with. My body would still be warm but my soul so empty and departed, like a tortured butterfly...the same way I lived.
A life in vain...a life never understood...a life that was never meant to be. A life lived fighting to be alive...a life lived struggling to be loved...a life lived dying a million times. When I'm gone, it'll be the way I lived. Nothing really changes. To live is to die...to die is to live.
Current Music: My Immortal by Evanescence
Current Music Update: November Rain by Guns 'N Roses