June 14th, 2018 by Failure143

I want to get my emotions out, but I suck at putting them in sentences and such so I’m going to write poems from time to time to try and help you guys out there suffering. Suffering and thinking you’re all alone, I’m going to try to help you in the only real way I can, not that poetry can get you anywhere in life.

As I wake up, I clasp my head/ Wondering how I’m not dead/ Walk inside and clean off the dried blood/ Finish up and take another med./ Think of my life even though it’s been drug in the mud/ Left there to rot/ Left there in the lot/ The lot of broken dreams/ Lot of failed sceams/ Suicide attempts and my many silent screams/ I shake the thought/ It’s not alot/ That I think about it/ The taste of the Benadril dissolving bit by bit/ Tasting freedom, but it was just another lie/ So when I woke up I just decided to cry/
I cried to try and feel just a little human/ I cried just to seem less stupid/ I was swarmed by friends to play Cupid/ But when I would try, Cupid’s mind would go lucid/ I get played with and bounced around/ Threw across until I hit the ground/ The ground of regret and uncertanty/ The ground that shows where I really should be/ The pit that I dug that was the perfect size for me.
I would dream of my Father walking on my corpse/ Then he’d snicker at the source/ He would have no remorse/ Glad that the pain in his life had gone away/ Glad that my neck was wrung from the ceiling/ Laughing at the skin on my arms peeling/ Falling off from my sleepless nights/ Crawling off from my sightless fights/ Happyness going away when I need those lights.
My funeral would start, with everyone I ever knew/ All of them were laughing exept for two/ My mother falls down and cries about the loss of cash/ And the dent in her life that I would bash/ The other walks to my coffin and hugs it/ Tears falling even though she wouldn’t love it/ She says “I’m sorry I didn’t go with you/ I’m sorry I did nothing to help you threw/ I’ll see the table that we sat at/ Where we would talk laugh and chat/ Where I always pulled on your heart strings/ Trying to make my heart sing/ I hope you can hear me, no matter where you are/ I only hope that you can’t be far/ Because you where my shining star”/ My coffin would lower, into that pit/ The pit that no-one would mess with/ the snickers would turn into laughs/ And there would only be jokes to laugh at
The girl holding the coffin would forget my face within a year/ She would no longer shed a single tear/ She would turn to the knife to remove her fear/ And then the dream ends here.

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