Of all the voices in my head,
yours is the only one
I keep hidden
under my bed...
and if you're wondering why
listen sometime to how you sound--
it's as if butterflies are speaking
as they fly
your voice soft as the flutter of their wings
as they go peacefully by
and whenever I get scared at night
I just think of you
and imagine that your voice
will surely get me through
til morning brings me back the light...

I’m tired of this world, it’s so hard to breath at times.
It’s hard for me to get out of bed.
It’s hard to go out and see people.
I’m tired don’t you see I want to sleep?
Leave me alone please.
If I don’t talk, no one can get mad about what I say.
If you don’t listen I won’t be heard, that’s fine no one has listened to me any way.
You are all too busy, you say I need to talk to someone I have tried.
I have tried to talk to people, nothing changes.
I don’t feel better, don’t ask if you can do anything for me, you know you can’t.
Don’t pretend, you don’t care about me.
Keep the curtains closed, the sun hurts my eyes, it’s too bright.
Darkness is my friend.
Sleeping pills have ran through my mind today, if I take enough I’m dead.
I’m tired of you, my head hurts I’m stressed.
I can’t sleep tonight, I never sleep.

Nothing will change, it will never change it will all be the same.
That’s why I want to get away.
She will never get help, I’m stupid to think she would.
I was hoping she would, I wanted things to work.
While I was waiting for things to change, I hung onto things from the past trying to remember when things were ok.
Was it ever ok?
I don’t remember it ever being ok, not once, not ever. Not even a little.
I’m tired of everything, I want everything to end.
You said talk things out maybe you won’t self-harm that way, I did try to talk to someone.
I’m numb.

This world is full of sorrow, how sad can this world get?
How sad can this world get before happiness takes over?
What has to happen before happiness is the norm and not something you occasionally see.
A sad story happens and everyone gets use to it.
People forget about how it can be.
I haven't forgotten, I haven't forgotten anything.
I don't know how much more I can take.

It was hard to breath; death was coming for me soon.
I knew I had so much left to do, but I’m out of time.
I always thought and sometimes even dreamed about death.
I have wanted to die for a while now.
I keep telling myself I’m not afraid, I’m afraid though and I want you to hold me please.
Hold me in your arms and tell me I will be alright, hold me in your arms until I fall asleep.
Never let me go please, maybe then things will be alright for you and me.

Does anyone find it ironic
When we are young we are scared of the dark
Outside our windows and under our beds
But then realize the darkness growing inside
Of our very bodies, our souls and minds?