I've got to move far away,
This dreadful town has me in tears,
A new sunset to appreciate every night,
Holding me down with an existential weight.

There's no telling that I'd do, friend,
To pack my bags and *******,
Against everyone's wishes,
I'm a failure to touch or view.

Its selfish to ask for help,
And I'd be begging to be killed,
Without it.

Give me a sign,
from the love of nobody's life,
I'll sign my life away to the metal,
Rind my teeth against bones,
Just to feel justified in my selfishness.

Don't ******* help me,
I'll do it all on my own,
Just get drunk, smoke some ****,
Burrow deeper into the molten hot sand.

Maybe I'll write a story about how I learned to survive,
Then reflect back on myself to see that I've still died.
I'm still figuring out how to die.
Figuring out if I can die.

Cause it's all futile,
To ask for help, I'd be a manipulator,
And if I called home,
Would anyone answer and take me seriously?