Lies in a bath tub,
filled to the brink.
He has tried to go under,
He has tried to sink.

He maneuvers his fingers slowly,
To the edge of the blade.
His goal is to only,
Make the memories fade.

But not much will change,
The more he will suffer.
Lets try again?
One cut after another.

Warm blooded,
The water turns red.
He is still alive,
He is not dead.

His hope is religion,
His strength he must trust.
Take all the bad memories,
Turn then to dust...

Cold steel slides across my skin.  
In so much pain. I let you in.
Now I bleed red.
I'm better off dead.

My life is cheap
30 pills and the bottle only puts me to sleep
A rope from a deck
didn't stretch out my neck
A gallon of gas
But my life didn't pass
And a blade, at least one for each finger
And yet my life seems to linger

I'm come to the conclusion
that happiness is an illusion.
And the only one who can take my life

Is the girl I gave a knife.
The girl I owe my life
The girl who causes my strife.
The girl who I love.

I wage war
That's never been seen before
Is sanity worth fighting for?
I'm not really sure

Insanity?
A calamity?
I call it individuality!

Who is Society
To create this hypocrisy?!?
It seems like such a tragedy
To waste such ingenuity
To dull the creativity