How many people feel alive?
At the cost of other’s lives.
how many people feel alone,
Even with someone on the phone?
At the page I stare,
Wondering if anyone would care.
Truly believing the answer is no.
It would be so easy to show.
The note rewritten time and time again.
Thinking finally I’d be free, then.
Knowing nobody would have cared,
Is all I thought as I stared.
How easy it would be to finally be free,
To escape the darkness inside of me.
It tells me I’m worthless,
It makes me nervous.
Even with all my might,
I know it’s right.
It tells me I’m a failure,
Just pick up the razor.
How easy it would be,
To escape this thing inside of me.
What happens when your best,
Just isn’t good enough, you can’t rest.
You can’t sleep,
You want to cut deep.
You can’t escape it if you try,
You just want to die.
That is mental illness,
At its most vicious.