Letting someone get close to you is
giving them a loaded gun. It’s only a
matter of time before they shoot you
with it, leaving you with a gun shot
wound right in your fucking chest.
They’ll sit there dumbfounded,
confused as to what’s happened.
They’ll hide the gun, run away and
leave you there to bleed yourself to
death because they were too much of
a coward to help you stop the bleeding.
They’ll promise it was an accident and
they never meant to hurt you.
That they didn’t know the gun would go off.
They’ll watch from a distance as your friends
find you crying in a pool of your own blood
wondering what did you do that was so bad
you deserved this.
What you did was so godawful you deserved
a bullet wound in the chest, and you can feel
your lungs starting to collapse and you start to asphyxiate.
They’ll bandage you up like they always do,
tell you it’s not your fault, and you deserve better.
They tell you this too will pass,
That’ll your wounds will heal and
soon you’ll be able to breathe again.
They’ll tell you that the storm can’t
rain forever, the sun has to come out eventually.
But happy endings never work out, do they?
People wonder why I suffer everyday.
Where I have to slit my body
up to make the chaos inside
me stop because all I see is
white noise, tunnel vision,
illusions and a false reality
and I can’t crawl out.
I can’t crawl out.
And I’m rocking to myself
grinning as the knife cuts
my soul open and the black
hole opens wide and I dive
into the dark and disappear inside
myself never to be seen again.
People tell me to just smile more.
It’s all in my head.
Give me your fucking voice.
Give me something to hold on
to other than the knife digging into
my fucking stomach.
Tell me about the fucking weather,
how your dog left hair all over your bed,
How bad traffic was driving home.
Tell me something, anything
so my mind has something
else to focus on other than the
fact I’ve been clawing my arms
counting down the seconds until I
can slit my throat and drown in
the god damn bath tub.
For fucks sake give me a
reason to crawl back.
Please just give me a reason to
crawl back to reality because I’m
lost and I can’t find my way home.
I would love to feel alive
again but I’m not used to change.