What's Wrong with Me

at the end of the day  
the one thing still with me  
is the same question  
"what's wrong with me?"  
and the angels still can't seem  
to see the heart soaked in gasoline  
and I can't stop the blade from dipping into my skin  
like droplets creating ripples in the water,  
healing comes and the lines hide under the dark fabric  
with the actions written by thoughts of suicide,  
bringing a deafening silence walking through  
the forest of my dreams, and no one knew.  
no one knew of the living shadows and scars  
hanging in the sky between the night stars,  
the only comfort I find's in the memories of the love  
we shared in secret, in the rain falling from above.  
now the ashes wash the child in poison  
creating a world of pain and destruction,  
the teardrops falling upon the picture of you  
at the funeral from the eyes of the beholder,  
and the fire in my broken heart begins to smolder  
in weakness and remembrance of a girl taken by a bullet,  
taken to a secret place in my soul forever,  
I just wish I was strong enough to defend you  
when the gun fired and now I'm torn through.  
my beloved, my heart belongs to you forever and here on after.