Is life just another test to prove me wrong?
Is this never-ending struggle just another lie?
Are these shitty feelings just another fairytale of happiness?
Are these scars real or just another open wound?
Are these people real or just ghosts in the wind?
Is this a fork or a knife? - the blood seems real
This knife seems to kindly touch my skin
This is dying not living
This is the border between life and death
Only death is real
Strangle me. Stab me to death
Poison my scars
Death is so profane
Death is what I hunger to experience
A lifeless body with a soul rotten of wasted years
In this they call life
So I kneel before you
A never-ending wish as I beg you
To end my life
Fool... why are you so weak?
Why can you not do what I dare not?
Cut my wrists. Poison my scars
What keeps you from ending my life?
Do not pity me as this is what I long for
I give up. Caressed by this shitty life
I must find strength within this grim body of mine
Searching in this open wound called a soul
I find enough strength to cut my wrists
But it isn't enough
Nothing shall ease this long awaited pain
Some pure alcohol should definitely make the blood run quicker
And make the pain bigger
A final attempt to make my death honourable;
I drag myself outside to die in public
Hopefully giving these humans trauma
What a lifeless body...