I'm just sitting here staring.
Sometimes eating.
Feeling too heavy.
I force myself to move every day.

Just hold me.
So I don't feel so heavy.
When you hold me.
I don't feel so heavy.

In the evening when I'm so alone, solo.
I know it's over already.
Cause I'm never living anymore for so long.

Now finally there's a pill to take but it takes time.
Actually dying, I've tried it before.
Done the irreversible acts, so I thought.

But this time I will know for sure.
It takes time though.
It takes more before, more different pills.
All alone, so alone, solo.

Somehow I can't.
Should I die singing?
I'm not dying crying.

They say: you will know when you're ready.
They say a lot of stuff.
I don't think I can ever be ready.
Not even almost.

I just know that going on is never ever working.
So now I'm just sitting here on the verge of crying.
But there are never any tears.

Just a feeling, some more eating and just staring.
Forcing my body to go outside walking.
Only walking, it is the only thing.
The only thing that is somewhat comforting and not destructive.

Something that is not eating.
While I'm carrying this feeling that I should be able to escape.
I keep asking, bagging myself to help myself.
Out of love, out of the pain.
I can do this.

Not leading anybody on.
Including me.
I wish there was a doctor of mercy who could put me down.
But no, this is all on me.
So lonely, solo.