I deprive myself from reality,
Hidden in my room.
Trying to keep some sanity,
In my head of hate and doom.

You ask "why ?"

I've told you.

I slit my wrists to see if I can still feel,
But it dosen't hurt.
I'm just a dead-end soul,
Letting the days roll by,
And the hate for my self cut deeper.

Who am I?
 
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