No more dying
No more lying
No more crying
No more "why"ing
It's hard to keep
up with life
when in my hand, I hold a knife.
A friend of mine,
from long ago.
A life I feel,
I do not know.
My memories,
seem more like seas
of joy,
oh boy,
but that's not me.
Smiling inside,
I'd never be.
I'm the kid
inside the joke.
The joke inside of me.
I'm the kid
confused,
abused,
misused,
no news,
bad views,
refuse-
ing
to ever enjoy anything.
I will not sing,
nor bring,
a bit of sugar to the table,
I'm unstable.
The silent ticking bomb,
only doing things I know are wrong.
Echos piercing my ear drums,
from the bottom of dramatic lungs.
Staring at the sun for thrill,
a shriek of hope much like a pill.
I will only lie for me,
not for you,
can you not see?
I will only die for I,
it's far too simple
to say goodbye.