(I) asked the voices,
Why do you (want) me to die?
They didn't reply (to) my question.
My skin just decided to (bleed out) the
answers,
Pointing out (every
flaw) on my ugly skin,
Leaving even more scars (on my body).
(I hate
myself) even more than before.
(For) each
purple line remides me of a time that
(Being)
strong wasn't an option,
And being (weak) was the only one
left.
