It Hurt's Me Inside, How Sorry I Am.

As the tears start to fall,
down my pale tanned face.
i have my regrets, they show on my face.
leaving a trail behind, mostly nobody can see,
how the guilt has won over me.

what are the odd's? that anybody will ever listen.
what are the odd's? that somebody will know i miss him.
what are the odd's? that ill be happy again.

"Oh, it's a phase your going through". no. it's depression.
"Your friend's have made you like this" no. they haven't. it's called loving someone you miss.
"where'd those mark's on your arm come from? I'm not impressed."
And what's that supposed to mean? just because i self harm- make's you love me less?

alot of friends, should make me happy. maybe a best friend.
where's that special someone that doesn't treat me crappy?
im stuck in a whole underground. suffocating, makeing sounds.
that nobody can hear.

it's like i'm screaming out for help in the dark.
nobody's listening.
their all under the cover's in bed.
while im awake in pain. stareing at the moonlight. cutting the hurt and anger out of my vain's.
it's not helping like it should.
i remember when i tried to stop, i thought i could.