You can’t see a thing.
No matter how wide you open your eyes,
Or squint in concentration,
You can’t see anything.

You can move,
Yes, you stagger around blindly,
And don’t come into contact with anything.
There is nothing here…
Just darkness.
And you.

That is what it feels like
In your mind,
When you are so depressed
That waking up is like a punch in the stomach.
Because you know you have to get through another day.

Of torture.
Of aching hopelessness.
In a life that you don’t know why you are living.

Your very EXISTENCE
Has become the main source of pain.
And with a razor in one hand,
And blood running down the other,
You stare at the wound thinking
"I feel nothing."

Blood just becomes a colour,
Wounds just become a place for a bandage.
There is no pain in it.
Because no amount of physical pain can bring you out of the pain in your own head.

You are totally alone.
You scan the bright eyes and alive faces of the people around you.
Look at them,
All on cloud nine,
And they don’t even know it.

They think nothing of smiling,
Of laughing,
They don’t notice the happiness that flows throughout them.

They look at everything they see
Like they WANT to see it.
Like they welcome the light into their eyes.

Every step they take is powerful,
It resonates with the energy that they have,
The will to live in their every stride…
While you cannot lift your foot off the ground.

So tonight,
Like all other nights,
You are on a planet on your own.
A world filled with torment
And trapped in the terrors of your own head.

You might get the skipping rope out of the garden shed,
You might tip pills onto the edge of the sink
And think
"I WISH I WAS DEAD."

You might regret being born,
Or living at all,
Or think "I should have done this a long time ago."

Hang on one second. Please.
What is one second more?
Especially when this second
Could change everything.

That abyss you are stuck in…
You aren’t alone in there.
You can’t see them, but there are others here.

All you have to do is shout out.
Scream for help,
Shout it from the rooftops,
Tell them all "I don’t want to live anymore."

And in a crowd,
One, even just one,
Will push their way to the front,
And hold out their hand,
And say "me too."

A tiny flame of light will appear in the thick darkness
And give you air.
Make you feel like you aren’t drowning…

Wouldn’t that be a nice feeling?

Of COURSE you aren’t alone!
Of COURSE you aren’t the only person in the world that wants out.

But suicide doesn’t end pain.
All it does is pass it on to someone else.

So put the rope back in the shed,
And lock the door.

Tip the pills back in the ***,
And shut the cabinet behind you.

Crawl, if you have to,
Across your floor.
Shed all the tears you never shed.

Scream in hysterics,
All the frustration you swallowed down,
Let it out.

The LOUDER you are,
The less alone you become.

Dial that number.
Maybe it’s 116 123.
There will be a voice at the end of the phone.

It is there to give you a lantern in the darkness.
And soon enough…
The whole world will be lit up…
And you will see light again…

The tune filled all of their ears
But was not present in the air.
I called to my fair lady,
But she screamed it was not fair.

It clearly wasn’t your day,
You live in tomorrow because you have no today.
You live their nightmares:
“he lives the dream”
They say.

4, 6, 8, 10
Here we go again and again.
Break your neck dancing on your head,
Because your legs have fallen dead.

Butterflies in your stomach,
And you shot them all down.
Now it feels too heavy,
What are you doing? Get off the ground.

Angels are falling,
Machine guns in hand.
“It’s not right!” you cry.
They can shoot, but not stand.

Caught in the crossfire,
You are lulled to sleep.
You’re twisted,
Your lives have been listed.
Which one do you want to keep?

We run across the tracks,
A horde of desperate children.
Our tears are raked off our cheeks
By the wind that slams into our faces.

Crouching, cowering, gritting our teeth,
A fruitless attempt to make ourselves smaller,
To dodge the never-ending stream
Of lead teeth that eat into our flesh.

Gripping the clammy fingers
Of our only hope,
Until they are pummelled into the floor,
And we leave them behind.

We live to impress,
We walk a tightrope every day.
God help you if you fall,
Because you are on your own.

They’ll only hold your hand
If there is something in it.
They don’t love you,
So just keep running.

Running, running,
Stretch out your fingers,
To the other side.
Because when you fail…

Well at least you can say
one part of you made it…
Right?

Walking through the silence
I see her weary face.
She gives me a smile with no happiness,
And walks with miserable grace.

Flowers of force bloom on her face,
Etchings of pain and tears.
And yet she speaks not of it,
She bows her head in fear.

She relaxes when in company
And drinks her whiskey neat.
But when the people leave her,
She crumples at his feet.

Go to sleep, it’s past midnight.
And watch your nightmares come to life.
It’s a sick freak show,
Heck we should know,
Mother get me a knife.

This house smells of stale liquor.
The poison blood, it runs deeper.
Take my hand,
It’s so cold,
And soon will be colder and stiffer.

I watch the bruises bloom and fade.
But the shame – it will never change.
I’m always at war,
Face to the floor,
Father, this is what you made.

Drag me down and yank me under.
It feels like home in a whirl of thunder.
Will the sun shine?
Will you reach me in time?
Or back to misery plunder.

Vicious circle, round and round.
Get up, slammed down, get up, down.
I’ll hide amidst torture,
As least it’s familiar,
And I promise not to make a sound.

I see the needle, the stumble in your step.
Eyes roll back, warmth up your neck.
We are all insecure,
How can you be sure?
You’ll die if you overstep.

Put me in a blinding daze,
I don’t want to feel the pain.
Yes, I am running,
Coward? Maybe.
I tried to burn a flame.

I’m not made of china, I don’t easily break.
I am purely liquified so don’t make that mistake.
I won’t hold together,
Unless you cage me in,
Come and get me Lucifer, how much more can I take in?

I believe in angels,
Their wings of feathers white.
They glow almost golden,
In the morning light.

It's such a relief,
To see the halos on their heads.
Because no one looking at such a thing
Could ever wish that they were dead.

The rays, when they hit you,
It reminds you why you're here.
They put a pillow under your head
And wipe away your tears.

I believe in angels,
They come to me at night.
They sit by me while I rock myself,
And hold onto the bottle tight.

Their voices are only whispers,
Takes my breath away to hear.
I try to curl up on their shoulders,
But they always disappear.

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,
They can't put me together again.
Every day I sit on that wall,
But the poison’s kicked in and I’ve started to fall.

Mary had a little lamb,
Before it was taken and weighed at 50 kg.
She searched and she searched for that little white coat,
In her woollen shawl with its name on a note.

Incy Wincy spider climbed and he fell,
Stuck in his pipe of internal hell.
Battling smoke and rattling lungs,
But Incy Wincy won’t give it up.

She’s a little teapot, short and stout,
The others laugh and point and shout,
Her self-esteem’s boiling, she’s holding it tight,
Pour it all out while she cannot fight.

Have you got me any wool?
No sir, no sir you took it all.
What do you mean it’s all my fault?
Why do your kisses taste like salt?

Ring-a-ring-a roses shattered in the rain,
They are only flowers, they don’t feel the pain.
All fall, all fall, we all fall down,
Three days rotting before you’re found.