They said that it was just a phase,
But I still have those lonely days.
Sitting alone in my room with a knife,
Debating on how to take my life.
Quick and clean or bloody and painful,
This life is too much for me to handle.
Pressure and stress sent me over the edge,
Thoughts in my head as I stand on the ledge.
Pre-suicidal play on my wrists,
Time for my life to take a twist.
Careening down, falling forever,
Me and the ground, blending together.
What a beautiful picture I paint...