because a sad suicidal is stereotypical
acting happy is hypocritical
hanging in there is too biblical
ending one's life is cynical
waiting for a voice so lyrical
that'll help this life that's so minimal
i can't even be egotistical
because i'm just a lowly, foolish individual
a happy suicidal

dear suicidal tendencies,
it’s three in the morning, you’ve woken me up
i sit on my bed with nothing but this pen and coffee cup
you’re at the front of mind, putting pressure on my forehead
i want to sleep it off, but you want me dead

dear suicidal tendencies,
it’s four in the morning and i have tried to fall into a slumber
but every time i close my eyes you appear and just make it harder

dear suicidal tendencies,
it’s five in the morning, i am feeling quite harmful to my wellbeing
you’ve pushed yourself through the surface of my skin and I can’t help what i’m seeing
you’re so dark, so scary; your fingers are course as you run them along the surface of my wrist
and you tell me words, saying my death will be forgotten and unappreciated just like mist

dear suicidal tendencies,
it’s six in the morning and I’m debating a future i cannot see
i’m letting you win, you’re words have made me believe i’ll be free

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived