I realize its not my blood that flows from my wrist
Just the dreams that others have set for me
As the drips begin their steady flow
Its the stains on the carpet that I watch grow
I can not see the dreams that were supposed to be inside
They just are not there in this suicide
I wrap the wound one last time
Looking for another sign
I feel no pain from anywhere within
I have grown numb to this and the outside world
For inside I am already dead
I exist only in this tiny spot inside my mind
Im not even sure that with true aim
I could even hit that spot
Maybe the cut should be deeper next time
Maybe I will scratch through the rusted coat of armor
And for one last gleaming moment see the shine
That has long been covered and corroded
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1 comment:
Now cut that shit out!
You are starting to freak me out.
That one wasn't even funny!
Go get a music engineering degree and be the next Phil Ek.
That will keep you busy!
Record other kids and put your signature sound on their recordings.
I have been considering doing this.
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