I spent the last two years
On a leather couch
Pouring my heart out.
Week after week after week.
It makes me weak and my future
Seems no less bleak.

So can you leave me be?
‘Cause there’s no saving me.
Won’t take a doctor to see,
I’ll never be there mentally.

15 years ago I was slicing my arms
Covering up with sleeves.
I hate myself now more than I ever did
And when blood came out,
Shame seeped into me.

I’ll cut my ears off if hear that
“Life is what you make it”
This point in life I
Wish i has the guts to take it

Dress up my body,
Then just bury me.

Who am I that I deserve to share
The air with doctors, and lovers
And people worth a ****.

A bag of useless bones
Losing to manic-depression
Is all I really am.

I can’t even cry.
Has it even hit me,
That there hasn’t been,
And there still is no saving me?