i sit with my notepad in my corner
with the pen behind my ear
my only friend is my cig.
and my only comfort is my tears
i try to think of something to write.
so i have a point in life
because i do
thats what they tell me
they say everyone does.
but i'm stil in my chair
with my pen behind my ear
with the paper wet of salty trickles
and my tears are my only comfort
they say it well help me
i think it will kill me.
now i lay on the floor
next to my desk
gasping for air my arm flows like a river
as my room fills with blood.
my mind travels through my life
one by one erasing my memories
my first love
my first date
my first day of school
my parents
my friends
my life
my future
and then i realize why i wanted to live
to love.
my eyes close.