We are all the same, yet we are so different.
Life through tears isn’t a bearing to joy, nor a road to death.
My breath becomes dry.
Strife is what we make of it, but not to interpretation.
Depression is a sadness we don’t understand, yet you think you do.
The world passes me by but you feel alive.
Crying is pushed below the surface, yet you think it’s weak.
“Tonight I swear.”
I want to be happy, so do you.
Yet I’m sad, but so are you.
You’re often right and I’m often wrong.
Things change for me yet are stagnant for you.
“Tonight I swear.”
I bleed blue and cry red. Blood dripping from my thighs and madness inside. This is the end of my life.
“This is it.”
You think I’m just weak and soft. You think you’ll see me tomorrow.
This time I’m right, and you will be wrong.
You are now below me, and I’m on top.
“It wasn’t even painful”
Suicide is the cure to all problems.
Death is the cause to all problems.
Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.
I scream “Help me!” with smiles and laughter.
Like a creek I stream, covering my hideousness.
I hide me with not me.
“You still never listened.”
All the pain I was in, yet you remained broken.
I listened and I understood.
We were equal. You were me and I was you.
“It’s finally over.”
My last breath was bliss, yet yours will begin to dry.
My days are cold and dark, but happy and bright, yet, yours are now passing you by.
“Fin.”