Suicidal Dreams
I pick up the knife
To slash, slash my skin
I try violently
To fight the pain within
The blood comes slowly
Trickle by trickle by trickle
It slides down my arm
How ironic, it almost kinda tickles
This is slow, it takes too long
I pick up the heavy gun
I want this all to be over with
I just want everything to be done
I open my mouth
To the taste of lead
I pull the trigger
To blow off my head
But instead I open my eyes
And nothing has been done
I'm just lying in my bed
With a mouthful of blood