My mind is filled with a million different faces
I can't recall any names but I know the places
where I like to hide, hide my eyes
My eyes are fine, fine with lies
Down to sleep, sleep to escape this reality
TV show I made in my head
the show's just begun when I lay down to bed
Sometimes I think I'm better off dead
I dread the dead
Until the end of time the only world they see
Is a two-foot-wide box buried six feet beneath
Their lost hopes and dreams
I don't have a rhyme scheme
I have no rhythm I cannot rhyme
Iambic meter is a waste of my time
I'm literally scrawling my insane thoughts
Hiding from them though I know I ought
to work on my grades
But instead I just sit and hate
Myself because of my attacks
Always at the worst times they come back
Scaring off any chance of love
I always beg from above
"Please God save me make it to me clear
What in your name am I doing here!"
All I can think of is who I used to be
And I hear what I used to see
Inside myself; straight edge to the very end
Now what I cannot do is defend
My testimony to the jury of my peers
Their hate and love is why I am here
My attacks return and I'm insane
Put a silver bullet in my brain
Figuratively what I am saying
Is I want my skin to touch a blade
Metaphoric blood drip...drip...dripping to the floor
Feeling my soul slip...slip...slipping out the door
Quietly, not wanting me to see
Her walking out on my like everybody
Stop...
I can't focus with the music around me
I wanna slam my head through this glass pane to stop the pounding
I started this poem 24 hours ago
24 hours later I'm still alone
There's no way to mask and no reason to hide
How empty and Soulless I feel deep inside
So Much effort put in, yet so more I need
For this little poem no one will read