I sit in the coldness of despair.
Shivers running up and down my legs.
The rage within builds up.
I try to control my self,
Nothing seems to be working.
I look at my self once more.
The thought runs though my mind.
As the blood tries to pour out of my soul,
Nothing happens.
I’m just sitting there cold as snow but hot as the sun.
The music flowing though my mind.
Help me though this rage,
But so little does it cure.
The knife right downstairs.
I think “yes, yes do it now.â€
My mind tries to fight the voices in my head,
This this I’ve won.
But next time,
I might not be as lucky
