Suicidal
Every night I sit & cry, wondering why I'd rather die. I don't know why I feel this way inside, I always say it's just my mind. I can't stand all this pain, it feels like pouring rain. Most people say I need help, but it makes me feel like I'm in hell. When I look at the razorblade, I think......look at all the scars I made. I wonder if the pain will ever end, But the thoughts in my head wont go away. Suicide was once a choice for my life, I choose to roll that dice. When I choose to stop that dice, it was to late for my life. Suicide is now a part of my life, it is an addiction that won't go away. This pain cuts deep in to my heart, I always feel like I'm alone in the dark. I feel that no one cares if I decay away, when my boo's helping me every step of the way. I fooled with the devil, and sold my life away, and now I have to pay. Written December 22nd, 2001 © on Dec 22 2001 02:32 PM PST 0 • 1
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"Every night I sit & cry,..."