Paranoid

People are always talking,
About you and how you act.
They're thoughtless words are stinging,
They want to see how you'll react.
You go home and cry,
You feel you'll never belong
You lay back and wonder why,
Everything feels so wrong.
You can't stand the voices,
That live up in your head.
You're screaming in the darkness,
You'd much rather be dead.
So you reach for the razor,
Sharp and blood stained.
You slice with a forceful pressure,
Through every vain.
You close your eyes
And embrace death.
Those voices in your mind
Are put to rest.
You couldn't see,
That those words weren't for you.
These are the things
Paranoia can do.