Its getting harder to ignore the wishes the blade can fulfill; a distraction.
Even a pill, a few more, maybe can kill the fact that I've lost my innocence
and my will to stop pausing pain by pushing pins has finally died in shame.
The shouts and cries of the mangy louse are driving me out of my house and home,
the comfort of friends ends when he slams the door and I have no way to cope.
I want to help, but all I can do is yelp for my mother and father in bond,
never those in blood, and mourn the loss of my brother in blood,
how I wished we shared a bond. Missing Persons and Wanted Posters are spinning
out of control in my head like a tornado, the twister is gathering speed
and I can't stop this like my favorite movie.
Heed my warning, this storm is coming, it's all my fault,
hot winds are forming the clouds are black.
Oh, God, please bring back the lost kids on my milk carton
because without them this hurricane will rain blood,
even the eye will seep red until the storm floods the schools and homes
but all can be saved if you just inject me with the serum encased
to end the heartache with a familiar embrace.
A mother, a father, a couple brothers, don't forget a sister,
all those who prefer to bond than to bleed,
but the summer allows me no comfort from friends that ends when he slammed
the door of the house that I've decided is not my home.
My home is in bond.