Early morning sun pearing from tired clouds
Bitter coffee, snearing faces
Dreary people, tired and slouching
A life once bursting with promise, now filled with nothing

If her beauty was on the outside, maybe then she would be heard
If only someone would pause and truly observe
If only he rolled up his sleaves, his cuts would reveal all
If only they noticed, before more would fall
If only teens werent mocked for mental illness
If only this world wanted to notice
They would see shades not only of black and grey
But vibrant colors bleeding, bruised and begging for justice

With red eyes and a fading heart she begged the world to notice
With turned backs and ignorant minds they ignored her
So she chose death over existence
And the world fell to its knees

"And how does that make you feel" she asks, pen poised over clipboard.
I want to scream at her, tell her that mere words could never hold the weight of what I feel
But instead I stare fiercely into her eyes and say...
"how does it make you feel, to know you can't save me?"

Staggering down a moonlit road, searching for the end to constant flashbacks,
I'm turning into a trembling mess of memories
Just looking desperately for the golden happiness evading me
My mind toys with our reality and a nightmare filled mayhem
I'm slipping from sanity, I'm begging, take me back when....
Everything was simple

Terminally ill and fading away,
But let her live on, day after day
Suffering family, hearts slowly breaking
She is not there, her body grows vacant
But no to a sudden end they still argue
While I'm watching her dying, I question their virtue
She died suffering, my dreams remind me each night
Giving someone the repect to die, should be basic human right

I DO NOT HAVE WRITERS BLOCK,
I have a pain that rips through each pore of my trembling body, so incredulously devistating my cries sound more like the wretched howl of an injured animal than anything resembling a human being.
I DO NOT HAVE WRITERS BLOCK
I have words that are unable to hold the weight of my emotion, so this undeniable agony comes out sounding as easy as a Sunday sleep in.