I just want to be dead
To go to sleep
And never leave this bed
The hidden wounds go so deep
How can I let them close
When they are frequently reopened
Everyday something happens to  re-expose
They will never be unopened
I just want to go to sleep
And never leave this bed

Written by
Michael Matthews

You said you saw me dancing in the rain.
You said I looked happy and sane.
If only you were truly true,
You would have noticed my pain.
If only you really knew
And not just claim,
You would have seen that my tears were the rain.

Dear friend,
If only you were truly true,
Maybe I would still be alive today.
Maybe. Just maybe.

—Abdulmalik Jibril

I breath in and out
That is what makes me alive, huh?
And my flesh
My bones
My blood
My pumping heart makes me human
But what is m soul made of?
It is not colorful like it used to be
It is not bright like others
Indeed it is barely alive with bleeding holes
It has all my pain
All my suffering
And every new knife that stabs my back
Makes a new hole

There is an arrow, locked away
somewhere, silenced
My heart has felt it, its caress
True consolation of one's life
That arrow, buzzing vibrato
after so many windows of my soul,
will break your chest, will
strike you dead with no notice.

But what
Happens when
I just don't want
To get help?
Like I don't want
To convince myself
To live longer

I'm so through with
The population,
Being human,
And being myself

It's like I don't
Want to stick
Around and see
If it gets better
I don't want
To get better

I want to be dead
I want to be nothingness

if I die, please don’t cry
don’t mourn on my graveyard
for i’ve been dead for my whole life
little did they know they have killed me inside ever since
with words, or doings

if i die, please don’t cry
what will you see is just my rotten body
what will you cry over is just my engraved names
what will you care about is just my adieu
in 6 feet under

if i die, please don’t cry
you weren’t there when i was still alive
you decided to succumb when i want to fight
you kicked up your heels when i was hurting for nights

promise me not to cry, my darling
mourning won’t change anything
always remember that you pushed me when all i did was begging

if you cry, that will just hurt me to the bone
knowing that to any of you, I only matter when i’m gone.

Like a dead poem
who must be reborn
on the same night again
with all the endless silence,
words back to learn
to string his sentence.

"Everything that has been exhausted now it's between love and hate."

And a long road engraved
back to make a new face
along with each space.
We try to say the word go,
say the word again.
Everything that looks new
never forget the past.
And for all that is finished,
waiting for another story to the last.