Hello, saints, I am the sinner that you hate, the one who has no friends because I spend my time pointing out their mistakes. I am the one who has been left to die and left to rot. Do me a favor and just throw me to the side to waste away, all alone. I’m alone. I’m alone. Keep me company, darling, can’t you keep me company? Oh, Lord, will you keep up with me? This room looks much smaller when it’s filled with a sad face that an empty heart won’t care to embrace. Hello, saints, I am the sinner that you hate. I am the center of what you hate. I lay beside prostitutes and the drug lords. They keep me close. They keep me hidden from the rest. I like to bury them inside of my chest to make me feel all warm and alive on the inside. Maybe the world is better off not knowing what I say in the dark and staying far away from every single one of my thoughts. I can’t believe who I am. I can’t practice what I preach much less enjoy any company from anyone for more than an hour without thinking of suicide. It all just seems like too much to handle sometimes. Break me apart and sell my heart for cheap pleasures that die right after they start. The lady in the white dress will never come for me.