sometimes death is my only friend,
that blade maybe my reason...
to just cut that vein and die,
so many people look up to me,
to be the friend that makes them laugh,
that shoulder who everyone cries on,
and be a strong individual and person.
leaving is one way out...
at least you can't look down me,
and can't tell me what could have been,
or how many days its been since I was truly happy,
no one will hold me, or let me cry...
i allow myself to cry and weep alone,
i try to be strong, but I long for death,
let me have peace, just please let me go home.