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Everyday I wake up hoping to die, but truly all I can really do is cry.
The little voice insides says “grab the knife and do it!” but my friends would never let me go trough with it.
You can hold the feeling inside any longer, you grab the knife and start to ponder.
As you sit there on the bathroom floor, you wait and wait and wait somemore.
Finally, you put the knife to your wrist, as you clench the memories in your fist.
“Do it, Do it” is all you hear, you feel a little pinch of fear.
You slide the knife across your wrist, little by little the memories will leave from your fist.
Your almost done, you’ll end being no one.
There you’ve done it, you fought that battle of fear and won it.
It’s over now there is no more, as you lie there on the blood covered floor.

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