Will you

If I die young who holds the flowers?

Who cleans the blood with their tears?

Should I apologize for giving up?

Should I let others tell me how to feel?

Tell me it’s all in my head, just my imagination.

Tell me it’s just the boy, all his fault

Go ahead, try to take the knife.

Urge me off the ledge I stand on.

Wipe the blood, I dare you to try.

You can clean the outside and seemingly fix the mess.

But the stain has already reached my soul.

Slowly turning my blood black, staining what used to be me.

I’ve changed you say, well if you don’t like it leave.

Everyone else has, so you wouldn’t surprise me.

Take another piece of me as you go, why not.

It’s not like I can feel anything anymore.

But I’m always smiling and laughing you say?

Course I am, what do you think?

Would you rather have a river of blood?

Would you rather me open up and you get sucked in?

Let you see the demon inside, show you who I am.

I let people in, they push me away.

All I have left is the gash I let open, still pulsing.

I’d never let you down, never hurt you.

Can you promise me the same?

Or do I have to ask another question?

Will you love me when I’m gone?

Love me when I’m no longer tangible.

Think of me when I’m no longer visible.

Cry yourself to sleep like you don’t know that I do.

Hang your head low when they mention my name.

Clean the blood with your tears.

Hold my flowers if I die young.

No… Of course not… So just let me go.

Let me fall back into the dirt in which I was made.

Let the black spread until it’s all that’s left.

Let the light burn out and the sun die.

Maybe forever is just a word…

And as the sun sets so shall I.

And as the sun sets, so shall I.