I sit here with my head on my knees and cry.
I sit here and wonder why I feel like I want to
die.
Sitting here dwelling on the saddness in my life.
Sitting here looking at the sharp knife that lies
next to me.
Sitting here with my right hand filled with pills.
Trying to decide if this is something I really want to do.
Arguing back and forth in my head "Should I live or should I be dead?"
I'm tired of the pain I feel inside.
I'm tired of running and looking for a place to hide.
I'm tired of feeling so sad.
I'm tired of being reminded of what I've done in my past.
I slowly move my right hand to my mouth and swallow the pain.
No more hiding.
No more do my tears rain.
I drift off into an endless sleep.
The cuts on my arms driven so deep.
