It is what it is

Hard statement

I'm sad, I hate myself and I want to die.

Ce soir...

Je découvre ce que ça fait d'être transi par la douleur, le froid et la peur.

And I just want to fucking die...

So cold

How can I be lost?
When the path is just a dark tunnel.
Searched the seas of hope.
How come it got so cold?
How can I be lost?
In remembrance I relive.

How?

Once in my life,
I would like to understand my role.
What am I supposed to do?
What am I supposed to be?
Again, I feel like I'm in the wrong place.
Not doing what I should be doing.
Wasted knowledge.
Train of life passing by.
I've made history, yet no one knows.
How my talent can be measured,
If no one knows what I've done?

Scars

I a made of scars
Stitch me again
I'm still bleeding
Remind me of blades and rain
Yes I made of scars
Pain is daily meal