A Pistol To My Temple

I am silence, hate, and invisible
I am a product of my own sanity
A silver bullet pressed to my lips
A reflex that lasts a second, a thought that pulls the trigger
I'm a walking imperfection, a fucking joke
Clock hits the mark, time to go.
So who the fuck do you think I am?
A distorted picture of some freak of nature
I hide the regrets under sleeves and Levi's.
Every day is the same fucking war, I walk you stay
None of this shit matters anymore
Fix the broken picture with therapy, a waste of time
Everything around turns to shit, but you don't see the same as I do
I'll do this on my own terms, my rules
Done pretending, time to see the real me
Instead of lies encased in a disguise
A monster inside that's clawing to be seen
Can't let that happen, have to be a good daughter
I'm not willing to put up with this shit any longer
All the hate, all the thoughts, masked with "I'm fine, I'm okay"
You want to see Hell? Let me guide you through my mind
It's not a big fucking deal, but to me it's an endless war against the one I hate the most
Me, I'm my own worst fucking nightmare
Bite the barrel, spit it out, there's nothing left to stay here for
A Pistol To My Temple, I'm glad that I feel nothing
Don't paint me to be an example for your idea of the outsiders
Don't label me as a troubled teen.
No one knows what I really am, then again no one's ever tried
Only seeing what's on the outside
This is my goodbye, and yes I've tried, but this time I'm giving up on everything and everyone
Maybe now that I'm gone you'll see
The perfect portrait of a fucked up human being.
That's all I am, a fucking waste.
A thought pulls the trigger, but I hold the gun.