I know I’m unwanted,

Yet I still try

To find the one

Whom would die

For me and make me feel

The feeling of the need for life.

 

I continue this hopeless search

And – oh to God – I beg this curse

To be lifted from this damaged heart,

To cast away this everlasting feeling

(Which makes me hate myself with hidden meaning.)

 

Upon my psyche forms a scar

In addition to the ones before,

As enmity is filled within my core.

 

The only way to exorcise this wretched Satan

Is to create much ventilation.

Ventilation by any means necessary:

By blade, by pen,

By the melodies-and-screams soaking in my skin.

 

Some call the path I choose to be weary,

But with every loss there is a gain;

An exception is made for me

Because all I ever feel is pain,

And – oh – I cannot bear this dreadful agony.

 

For the one whom will never leave my side

Is nowhere to be found.

I often wonder if the girl for me

Is just a dream,

Just a fantasy.