Life’s picture frame

I want to be happy, this is true,
But I don't know what I'm supposed to do.
Ive tried everything in the book,
Maybe if they took a second look,
theyd realize im at my lowest point
Even when I smoke a joint.
Even when I pop the pills,
Even when I can pay the bills.
Every object I see can be
The thing that kills me, sets me free
Does everyone else think this way?
Do they think about it every day?
Do they research easy ways to die?
Do they sit in their room all day and cry?
Do they feel like there is never hope?
Is anyone else in the same boat?
I feel so alone, have no way to release
the feeling inside me that I call the beast.
It consumes me the second I get out of bed.
Starts in my heart and runs towards my head.
Once in my head it never escapes,
Plays over and over like a video tape.
It's really hard to block the thought
of my body lifeless, left to rot.
The total of people who care may be 3.
But the caring they have won't be for me.
It costs alot for a funeral for someone,
My family is broke though, I'd probably have none.
I'd get thrown aside, if ever found,
Just another dead body to throw in the ground.
Who would care if I disappeared?
Left this life of hate and fear?
I'm not giving anything back to the world,
I'm just a miserable lonely girl.
Everyone was right all along,
I do nothing right, it's always wrong.
I'm not a good person, I hate who I am.
I'll do anything and everything to get one more gram.
When I think back to what memories haven't been erased,
I realize my whole life was just a big waste.
If I never lived, things would be the same,
There'd just be one less ***** in life's picture frame.