The shadows surround the small child as the incoherent voices grow louder in his head. He screams, but no one hears. He cries, but no one dares wipe his tears. He hangs his head in shame, in attempt to hide all his fears. He is utterly alone and has been for years. Yet still his demons keep him company. His only friend is the beast he is keeping caged. He is always abused by the world. He constantly remains enraged. He smiles through it all and pretends he isn't phased. But the truth of the matter is that he just can't feel safe. He has seen the whole world and still hasn't found his place.

She travels through out society looking for a place among her people. Tried using her education as a guide. Her knowledge as her steeple. No matter what she did all her actions were feeble. She realized her dream was nothing but a fable. Her peers told her she was weak, but still she took more than they were able. After all that she's seen; you can't expect her to remain stable. Society is dragging her down while the shadows are protecting her. Her demons are accepting while her family keeps rejecting her. It seems like life is intent on disrespecting her.

"My whole life, I have never mattered. They broke my heart, my spirit shattered. They beat me down and left me battered. And now I place my life as forfeit. Burn me and let the ashes scatter."

Is what he says to him self as he sits with a blade in hand, listing to a lone music box in the attic. He promised God he would stop, yet still he's back at it. Tried convincing himself that he's not a pain addict. "No! I can't be! I'm not a fucking Masochist. I mean I know i take the hurt, but that's more of a pacifist. Just cause people harm me don't mean I can use my fists. So I'm just going to sit back and watch the blood flow through these open slits in my wrists." And then no one has the time to just sit back and contemplate. They weren't ready for his comeback. Weren't expecting him to retaliate. But what ended up happening was left up to fate. Now there's no going back, they noticed to late.

"I'm going to paint a picture. A picture with a twist. I'll paint it with a razor blade. I'll paint it on my wrist." This is the only tune reflecting in her head. What kind of a teenage girl sings about being dead. All because people in her life never watched what they said. It's like loading a gun. Cocking the trigger and aiming it at a kid. Then pulling back that one finger and pumping them full of lead. "I'm going to write a story to reflect my broken heart. My wrists as my paper. Blade as my pen. And the stories will be my scars." Only in pain can she truly find pleasure. Her universe of peace was found. Better late then never. And the whispers in the dark were oh so clever. Used her weakness against her and now they're her only friends forever. "Family. Friends. They don't care if i'm crying in the dark. They only take what they can. All these years, they broke my fucking heart." And when they finally DESTROY everything inside. When they break the TOY and its innocent mind. They'll cover it up. Their mistakes they'll hide. But all deeds will be seen cause the light isn't blind.