I'm addicted to pain.
Maybe cause I'm immune to it,
I suffer what three souls couldn't handle.
but no matter how many times
I put on the rope,
how many pills I swallow,
how many times I pull the trigger,
the **** bullet will not come out.

Death herself does not want me,
so I lay here, and suffer.
I go to sleep every night, wishing for death.
Hoping to never wake up again,
and I wake up every morning,
wishing I hadn't,
wishing I had died painlessly in my sleep.

In the night the demons follow me, during the day they wear masks,
"I am tired",
"I am fine",
"I'm just tired",
"I'm fine".
Well I'm not!!!
I am dying inside, I am miserable,
and I only spread misery.
I don't want to suffer through death, but I want to die.

I don't want pity,
I just want things to be different,
I don't want to fail at what I hope to do, because,
almost dying changes nothing,
dying changes everything.
I am screaming at the four winds, hoping my shouts will stop it.
I am begging for help;
but I don't want attention.

I don't want pity,
so I lay here and swallow another pill,
I reload the gun,
I grab the rope,
I'm miserable.
I'm lonely.
I'm dying.
I am,
but I want to be,
I was....