And if you knew how sick I really was,
would you save me or let me fall?
For fear that I was too far gone
and if you knew how I felt,
would you take me or let me go?
Because people go crazy for reasons,
reasons we don't know.
This madness fills my head,
is this happening again?
I find comfort in knowing that I'm slowly dying.
If I say that I'm alright, just know I'm lying.
If someone had told me I'd changed,
I wouldn't argue, because I know I'm not the same.
I went to war inside my head and lost.
I didn't fight hard enough and now I pay the cost.
I just wanted to mean something to someone.
But now I'm disappearing; I'm gone.
I'm spilling my guts out,
for everyone to see.
I am dying inside.
This is honesty.
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