Slowly Dying

The blood it feels so good as its running down my hand,
The way it drips off of my finger tip into the garbage can,

These eyes are growing heavy,
That door is locked so tight,
Hopefully tonight will be the night,

I'll close my eyes so gently,
Not a sounds I will make,
As I drift away from here,

I was sad and I was broken,
This heart is already taken,
A book shelf upon her life,

This life is not for me,
I'll leave it for the living,
The ones who are genuinely smiling,

The blood it feels so good as its running down my hand,
The way it drips off of my finger tip into the garbage can,

These eyes are growing heavy,
That door is locked so tight,
Hopefully tonight will be the night,

That I will finally sleep soundly.