6:48 p.m. - 2007-11-14
My saviour
Cold metal, savior....

I'm reaching my hand out, something tells me that this just isn't real. There are days where I feel like I'm the strongest person in this world. I've got my secrets wrapped real well inside a sheep's head-no one can tare me down because I hide my truth down real well. I'm too good to be seen amoung such low-lives; so uncapable of understanding the simplest of things. I feel bigger than everyone around just because I've got black steel.

Then, like a kick to the head, I wake-up and realize that I am in fact the weakest person in this world. Maybe I'm not strong enough to do what I truely want. All of these fears clouding my truth and vision, light covered up by the veil of death. I've gone too long, too far, I've forgotten who I am.

Black steel, I pull you-you pull me. I've proven too weak to pretend, I can't go on like this. I'm asking you to take it all away. Bring me death so I can finally live.