April Situation Testo

Bleeding out my veins.
No one knows the weight of sorrow.
Bears down and breaks my clavicles.
Too far from both the beginning and end.
The seasons change without me.
Few things can compare to the weather in April.
And nothing is real.
See the mirror and it reminds me.
I hate myself and I always will.
Misery needs no other company.
Seasons change despair still remains.