Paint your eyes black
Paste your skin white
Draw that blade across your arm
Bleed that crimson red
Grow out your hair
Show them how sad you are
Make people stare
You’re not looking for attention
This is what sad people do
They put on a show
They take time
To let people know
They don’t care
Then go home
Go open the door
To the 200,000 dollar house
That many kids would kill for
Wallow in the self-pity
Of your middle class life

And tomorrow go to school
With your hair dyed black
Sit down at your desk
And listen to the word
Of the kid without a style
Without a tear on his cheek
The kid everyone knew
Everyone liked
Nobody loved
And nobody knew
Why in the middle of last night
Without tight jeans
A scar on his arm
Or makeup galore
Sat on his bed
With their song on repeat
And careful not to make a mess
On anything but his sheet
Bled himself dry