My Chemical Romance

My cheeks are permanently stained with teats/
Telling you anything is my worst fear.
I bite my lip to keep from crying
while inside I'm quickly dying.

My reality is getting worse
Soon, I hope, to be in the back of a hearse.
My arms are forever marked with my reason for living
For their music they are giving.

I know I'm not insane
They just stop the pain
Hearing them I feel it's okay to be imperfect
When I listen to them I can be me.