Post by Shattered Memories on Sept 25, 2005 2:29:50 GMT -5
Life to Death
I'm an addict...
I love pain...
I love the near death experience that I have grown accustomed to...
I love the way my blood smells as it pours out of my wounds..
Who cares though if I die...
Surely I don't...
And neither does anyone...
For if they did they wouldn't make my life a living hell...
They wouldn't make me pray for death...
No..they are the ones who make me cut, pop pills or even put a needle to my vein...
They're the ones who gave me things...
Even when I was younger...
They made me do this to myself...
I'm not to blame...
They are...
I'm really kidding myself if I were to believe that...
No..I was the one who did this to myself...
I was the one who cut, pop pills and held a needle to my vein...
Yet I am not dead...
Though I wish to be...
I wish to at times to die...
I wish that my fate was to fly in the sky...
But it isn't...
I'm going to Hell...
I'll meet my mom there...
That drunken whore...
I wish I could blame someone but I can't it's my fault...
I'm always to blame...
At least that's what people always tell me...
"YOUR A DRUGGIE!"....
"YOUR SUICIDAL!"....
They're yelling words go right through me...
"Your going to kill yourself."...
"I'll never see you again."....
They start to cry and I want to know why...
"Why do you do this to yourself."
"Do you even care about anything."
I want to know why...
Why do they cry...
"I care for you...Please just stop what your doing..."
I never listen...
I tune away and zone them out...
No one should care about me...
I made it that way...
I don't need anyone...
Just a knife and some pills...
I look at myself in the mirror...
I think I'm fading away...
"What have I become?"
I ask myself already knowing the answer...
I look at my arm...cuts running up and down them...
I look back up at myself...
My once vibrant brown eyes becoming darker and darker still....
And my skin was no longer the shade of honey dew...
No it was now a pasty white...
I brushed my brown hair out of my eyes...
"This is it...no time for good byes..."
I picked up a pistol I stole from my brother...
This was it...
There is no turning back...
My hand was shaking and still I looked back into the mirror one more time...
I looked at my eyes...
Those eyes that once were beautiful...now only held death...
I didn't care anymore...
I pulled the trigger...
My pain didn't come...
My pleasure didn't come...
I dropped to my knees and cried...
...The gun wasn't loaded...
I'm an addict...
I love pain...
I love the near death experience that I have grown accustomed to...
I love the way my blood smells as it pours out of my wounds..
Who cares though if I die...
Surely I don't...
And neither does anyone...
For if they did they wouldn't make my life a living hell...
They wouldn't make me pray for death...
No..they are the ones who make me cut, pop pills or even put a needle to my vein...
They're the ones who gave me things...
Even when I was younger...
They made me do this to myself...
I'm not to blame...
They are...
I'm really kidding myself if I were to believe that...
No..I was the one who did this to myself...
I was the one who cut, pop pills and held a needle to my vein...
Yet I am not dead...
Though I wish to be...
I wish to at times to die...
I wish that my fate was to fly in the sky...
But it isn't...
I'm going to Hell...
I'll meet my mom there...
That drunken whore...
I wish I could blame someone but I can't it's my fault...
I'm always to blame...
At least that's what people always tell me...
"YOUR A DRUGGIE!"....
"YOUR SUICIDAL!"....
They're yelling words go right through me...
"Your going to kill yourself."...
"I'll never see you again."....
They start to cry and I want to know why...
"Why do you do this to yourself."
"Do you even care about anything."
I want to know why...
Why do they cry...
"I care for you...Please just stop what your doing..."
I never listen...
I tune away and zone them out...
No one should care about me...
I made it that way...
I don't need anyone...
Just a knife and some pills...
I look at myself in the mirror...
I think I'm fading away...
"What have I become?"
I ask myself already knowing the answer...
I look at my arm...cuts running up and down them...
I look back up at myself...
My once vibrant brown eyes becoming darker and darker still....
And my skin was no longer the shade of honey dew...
No it was now a pasty white...
I brushed my brown hair out of my eyes...
"This is it...no time for good byes..."
I picked up a pistol I stole from my brother...
This was it...
There is no turning back...
My hand was shaking and still I looked back into the mirror one more time...
I looked at my eyes...
Those eyes that once were beautiful...now only held death...
I didn't care anymore...
I pulled the trigger...
My pain didn't come...
My pleasure didn't come...
I dropped to my knees and cried...
...The gun wasn't loaded...