Sitting in the floor
Pulling my hair
Surrounded by thousands of people
That are not really there.

I feel the bugs on my skin
The thoughts tell me to hang myself
I ask "When"?

Loud noises from the hollow
All in my head
Throwing up the pills I did not swallow.

Oh God, where are you now
I'm going crazy
I'm going to **** myself... Somehow

Wrote a note to my mom
I'm so sorry I said
Eight years ago
I'm still not dead.

* YOU CAN OVERCOME THIS