You think I romanticise suicide?
That I can find glory in death?

You're wrong.

I don't hope for romance, there is no romance in laying six feet deep.

Being defeated by your own mind holds no glory, there is no pride in suicide.

You say...
Get over it.
You can fight this.
It's only in your mind.

And you're right.

It's only im my mind so stop telling me how I feel.

So shut up.

I know it's weak.
Selfish... but it is my choice.
I know you think it's a choice to be happy.
If it was did you really think I would choose this?

sadness
pain
depression

Suicide

Trying to write a goodbye.
Wondering about the music for my funeral.

Suicide

I'm always scared but fighting.
I am weak but never giving up.
Never giving in.

I don't think this is fun.
This is suicide your talking about.
No romance.

Empty of joy and glory.
Suicide.
A way out.

The blackened mirror hangs on the wall
and whispers my name with a soft call
Like the wind, it rustles my brain,
its hauntingly familiar voice I distain
"Come and see what lies within,
what's bound to come and what's already been,
but when you look you can't forget,
'cause what is seen will then be set."
I shield my eyes in fear alone
'cause I don't want this set in stone
but hunger for truth boiled deep inside
and spilled across this body of mine
I saw the darkest part of you
and realized there's nothing I can do