Erk Mizuhara
11-21-2004, 10:18 AM
Beyond depression
I sit, i don't care where
I'm alone, or there may be people there.
My mind's my only true company
but even that seems to have abandoned me.
My shadow's the only friend
but like all things, it must end.
I gaze at the cigarette in my hand.
Smoke another drag and
take another second off my pointless life.
I just want to end all this pain and strife.
My wrists seem so weak.
I hold a sharpener blade as i speak:
"I don't want this any more,
I want to end this all before
I go insane, or lash at everyone."
Oh, i'd destroy them. Explode like a bomb.
Why, just why must feel like this?
Not any more, as i aim at my wrist.
The last thing i see is a blood gush.
Oh, it's amazing. I love this rush.
I manage to raise my hand, smoke my fag.
The symbol of end, my life was a drag.
People may have rushed to may aid.
I failed in life, and now i've paid.
Always in solitude, the bottom of a well.
I've ended it. No more Hell.
A scream. Perhaps it's one of mine? Then, a roar.
People seem upset. My blood must've stained the floor.
But it doesn't make a difference.
I feel happiness, like a trance.
A light blinds me. Is it Heaven?
I didn't think i'd come here when,
I'd been so bad in life all the time.
Perhaps this is compensation of kind?
A voice i hear, scream: "He's awake!"
Horrified. What error did i make?
They saved my life, brought me back.
Arguing about the blood i lack.
I can see surger tools nearby.
All i wanted was to die.
They pulled me out the river onto the bank.
I suppose, then they'll want some thanks.
God hates me. Prolong my agony.
Keep me going. Detroy my sanity.
"You're okay, son. We saved you."
I didn't want to be saved. It's not true.
I can't be alive. I don't want this.
As i reach for a knife, there's a scar on my wrist.
No-one will let me die.
All i ask is 'Why?'
I continue my life, even to this day.
Prolong this pain is my way to pay.
I guess i'll wait for the natural end.
Alas, my shadow has returned. My only friend.
I sit, i don't care where
I'm alone, or there may be people there.
My mind's my only true company
but even that seems to have abandoned me.
My shadow's the only friend
but like all things, it must end.
I gaze at the cigarette in my hand.
Smoke another drag and
take another second off my pointless life.
I just want to end all this pain and strife.
My wrists seem so weak.
I hold a sharpener blade as i speak:
"I don't want this any more,
I want to end this all before
I go insane, or lash at everyone."
Oh, i'd destroy them. Explode like a bomb.
Why, just why must feel like this?
Not any more, as i aim at my wrist.
The last thing i see is a blood gush.
Oh, it's amazing. I love this rush.
I manage to raise my hand, smoke my fag.
The symbol of end, my life was a drag.
People may have rushed to may aid.
I failed in life, and now i've paid.
Always in solitude, the bottom of a well.
I've ended it. No more Hell.
A scream. Perhaps it's one of mine? Then, a roar.
People seem upset. My blood must've stained the floor.
But it doesn't make a difference.
I feel happiness, like a trance.
A light blinds me. Is it Heaven?
I didn't think i'd come here when,
I'd been so bad in life all the time.
Perhaps this is compensation of kind?
A voice i hear, scream: "He's awake!"
Horrified. What error did i make?
They saved my life, brought me back.
Arguing about the blood i lack.
I can see surger tools nearby.
All i wanted was to die.
They pulled me out the river onto the bank.
I suppose, then they'll want some thanks.
God hates me. Prolong my agony.
Keep me going. Detroy my sanity.
"You're okay, son. We saved you."
I didn't want to be saved. It's not true.
I can't be alive. I don't want this.
As i reach for a knife, there's a scar on my wrist.
No-one will let me die.
All i ask is 'Why?'
I continue my life, even to this day.
Prolong this pain is my way to pay.
I guess i'll wait for the natural end.
Alas, my shadow has returned. My only friend.