I walk the streets with headphones.
I where my scars alone.
I have a killjoy smile.
And an outlandish style.
I screamo till my voice is dead.
Spells always run through my head.
Covered in black and studs and spikes and chains.
I wonder what others think of my yellow eyes through the rain.
I'm that scary person in the conrer.
Other's point and whisper "Igonore her."
I don't know what I want anymore--
My life in the lights, or my home in the forest.