The Way You Lie.

I'm suffering. I can't move or speak. I'm looking at my life. I don't know what there is anymore. I want to return home, to a place where I feel safe. I hate it here. Everything reminds me of the past. I want to die every time I lay down. I want to set this house on fire and watch me burn in flames. I want to feel the fire seep into my veins and explode my heart. It will hurt so bad, but that's alright, because I like the way it hurts. This is all my fault. This is something I cannot undue. This is the story of a deadman. From the beginning to the end, It's led to this moment. The moment when soul departs from body, Lifts into space, and flies away. My body is motionless, frozen by fear, Taught by pain. There will be no next time, don't you hear sincerity in these words? She fucking hates me, and I love it. I feel like Superman with the wind at my back. Nothing can save me from this fate. I am dying. Tell me sweet nothings. Tell me stories about men who have overcame perils in history. Tell me about people who have survived tragedy. Explain hope and how "God" makes things new. Because I love the way you lie.