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I can't help to wonder why

My life is always out of context

The extremitys I go through to live to die

My world is full of bloody pages, hexed



I scream why is it like this, I can't say a word

I scream I want this, but it always just hurts

And now I see what I've done with this, it's now burnt

It's a paragraph out of context



I shoot the dice, they roll and burn, my pathway is set

But it begins to burn, and I run into the flames to get away from hell, the flames are what's there for me, that and the burnt flesh smell



I sometimes am happy and feel a little alright

But in the end I always die at night

And Sleep again just to wake up the next day

To see your tired, sick face, play by play



So I wonder what I wrote wrong

I wonder why I'm here

I'm loved by someone so dearly,

The pages out of context just write on and on

But my feelings just come more clearly



I read what I write and it's never enough, I express my feelings but they want my mouth shut, so seal them tight and shoosh me good nite and maybe it will write out again