You can't take it
You can't live with it
The pain is too much
The kids at school
They keep hurting you
Or maybe it was your father
Maybe your mother
Maybe they're both dead
Like how you will be soon
Maybe you're in love with abusers
Maybe you are simply sad
But either way
You can't take it anymore

You take a rope from the attic
You grab a gun from the cuboard
You steal a knife from the kitchen
You're at the bridge over the river
You're on a railway with a train
Wherever you are
Whatever you have
It doesn't matter now

You take a rope from the attic
The kids at school
They taunt you and laugh
They say they wish you were dead
Well their wish is coming true
You're suffocating
You're silent
You're gone

You grab a gun from the cuboard
Safety is off
You're in your room
You whisper a goodbye
To the father who hurt you
To the brother who loves you
BANG
The shot can be heard for miles
You're gone

You steal a knife from the kitchen
Your mother's prying eyes
Who breaks your heart
With hateful words
You're in your bathroom
You hold the knife to your wrist
Your lifeline is bleeding out
The blood is on the white floor
You're gone

You're on a bridge
There's a cold and fast flowing
River of tears and sorrow
Your mother is gone
Your father is gone
Time for you to go
You leave your other family
Who are grieving with you
You jump
You fall
You're gone

You're at a railway with a train
Ready to hit you with pain
It wouldn't be the driver's fault
It was the abuser
You thought loved you
But you were wrong
You are hit by the train
It stops with your broken heart
You're gone

Where is the rope burn?
It burns your parents
They weep and wail
They lost their child
They're sunk into a sea of sadness
They read the note
They beg dear god above
" why were we not enough? "

Who did you shoot?
Your brother's chest
He's staring silently
At his sibling's dead body
As he stutters and sobs
He wonders
" why was I not enough? "

Who was stabbed?
Why your sister
She doesn't know who to talk to
She doesn't know who can help
As she screams for the neighbors
As your heartbeat stops
" why was I not enough? "

Who drowned?
The family you left behind
Your uncle is silent
Your aunt is shocked
Your cousins, your grandparents
They cant believe it
" why were we not enough? "

Where is the wound?
It bleeds in your friends' hearts
No matter how many you have
Or rather had
They can't stop crying
They can't stop thinking
" why were we not enough? "

Your name is in the papers
You're on the front covers
The world is full of tears
The news reporter is upset
There's a book with your name
There's ****** roses on your grave
Marked with your name

You stop
You think
You put away the rope
You put the gun back
You replace the knife
You walk away from the bridge
You run off the railway
You hide your tears in the rain
But you think
Think, think.
Maybe you can live one more day
Or two days, three days,
Four days, five days, six days
A week or two
A month or more
A year or so
Maybe forever

Never love a poet so much,
for she will build her world around you.
She’ll contrast you to the sun and stars;
she will love you so.

She will give you lovely notes
to brighten up your day.
You’ll find it a little weird
but you look forward to it, anyway.

Never love a poet so much,
for she will invest a lot in you.
She will become the person you’ll only ever need
without taking a lot from you.

She will take you to places,
and make you experience things
within a room's four corners
and her words as your wings.

Never love a poet so much,
for even after all those things
she will take away her love,
and leave you without a trace
with her heartache as her fuel
for another masterpiece.