If I sat here right now
And held it to my head,
I think I could pull the trigger.
I could send a piece of hot lead
Flying straight and true
Through my ****** up head.
I’m sure you’d be surprised,
Wonder why I’d done it,
Why the hell I was dead.
You’d say that there was a lot for me here,
That I had a life worth living.
Look at it how I do:
I’m seventeen,
Still early in life,
Yet my head is so ****** up.
I hate my mind.
If it’s so bad now,
How will it be then?
Would I be able to function?
Would I be living a life full of hatred?
Manic depression,
Bipolarity,
And paranoia.
These things all plague me.
They are badges that I wear
Not represented by my acceptances
Or my grade point average.
To top it all off,
I feel so severely alone.
I’ve begun to live my life mindlessly,
Like a human drone.
I numb myself,
And you see me smile,
But that’s just a mask
That I can don for a while.
I see no point in going any further.
I’m that kid at the party,
Who just sits and hurts more.
The one thing that consoles me,
But strikes fear and panic attacks,
Is the fact that god does not exist.
He plays no part.
So when we die,
That is the end.
We live our lives,
Never again.
So taking mine has a certain finality,
An ultimate end.
It’s a ceasement of pain,
A darkness that the
Mind cannot comprehend.
If I held that gun now,
I could do it.
I could really do it,
My friend.