Nothing will make the pain go away
I think it's time to move on
Yeah me too
Let's write a poem
Will do
It should be about the internal
What's going on inside?
Tell me what's in your head?
I don't know, there is a storm where everything is red
A storm?
Yeah it's made of sand and it twirls around
Like pretty sparkles on the ground?
No, it swirls and swirls all around me ...
And?
And it doesn't end you think it's fine but you don't understand
That sand is everything I've tried to avoid
Is the sand the void?
A void is not full and this is an occupied place
How so?
It fills me
Then how do you breathe?
I don't breathe I choke and I heave
Gasping for air?
The sand of despair?
Then an army appears
The ones that fight for hope?
The ones that watch me burn in smoke
This imagery is swallowing me
Yep so I keep on thinking I'll keep it to myself
People get tired of sadness wether from within or someone else
The army of bandits whispers beautiful things
But there must be treason set in place
Well of course what other way could it be
Your mind would never be complete without the demons guiding
The red sand blows and as you lie on the ground
The General takes his gun in his hand
He presses the barrel to my head
I think he will pull the trigger
I'll be dead?
Think of all the ****** red
As he squeezes the handle the pressure builds up
I ****** it away and do it myself
But nothing comes out
Over and over again in a never ending cycle I relive this
The death of hope
You let it all go and nothing happens
What's my reason to live?
The fear that consumes me and makes me paranoid like this
My mind is starving and soon I'll become bones
I lie about my mental state and everyone knows
I'm not in denial I know I need help
What prevents me from getting it?
The denial of someone else
The General who held the gun to my head
He said
"Though you think you are weak,
You are nothing near, and your disposition will change
I will place you in a new condition and I won't stop
Until the uncertainty makes your own hand attempt
To **** you again
And then you will know
Nothing ever truly dies
And the tears won't help
But you may still cry
And I think we both know that if you were truly weak
Your hopefulness would never plead
And you wouldn't be here living with me
Cause the bullet would fall through
In full head on collision with you"