Thoughts that Pound in Repetition

"No colors anymore I want them to turn black..."
I am fucking crazy.
No one understands I'm fifty parts suicidal and the other half unstable with no balance in between.
Fuck life.
It wasn't what I wanted.
It doesn't matter where I go, I'll never feel that spark again.
I was made an emotionless corpse by all the shitheads around me that pushed me to be more.
I want control from no one.
So give me pills.
Give me the lethal injection of a fixed personality because being yourself is just as painful as being someone else so you might as well be no one.
I am over the ways of the planet.
It cuts me to the core and slices me in half with its bitterness.
Fine.
I'll mentally check out.
Go AWOL.
Go fucking wild boys.
And it isn't an invitation.
I wish I had choked on my umbilical noose.
I was halfway there with it wrapped around my neck.
If only fate would have had the balls to pull.
Instead I was cast to the ruins of this wasteland with no escape until the coming of age marks the occasion I can walk out of the peeling pain with a cold "Fuck you all." and never look back.
These people do not understand the blood that flows through my veins is my own.
I have no master.
If I had it my way I'd be bone thin and beautiful in the most tragic of ways.
Trust me, I'm determined to get there.
I'm twisted in that way.
Go ahead. Undo the knot.
Though winning never gets you far.