Every beat of my heart sends poison through my veins
Every medication force fed further fucks up my brain
Why must I be like this?
Why must I depend on inanimate capsules to be my friend?
Why is it with every puff I feel less insane?
Why is it that I care too much what people think, therefore telling people that they're not on my brain?
It's kinda true, they're under my skin
Crawling up and grasping my head
At nights, I lie awake in bed
Pondering on what's once been
Why is it that I'm labeled based on the outside when there is so much more within?
Why is it that every time I try to open up, I freeze and close myself in again?
There's scars on my body that nobody sees
There's scars on my heart that yet still bleeds
There's a whole other side of me
There's a sea of emotion that's ocean deep
Sometimes I think that the end is near
See, it's not the love I fear
Rather the heartbreak that is ultimately near
Even that though, I cut a smile ear to ear
Sometimes I think my time has come
I should just back up and never see the sun
Dangling from up top, my fear would be gone
Is it truly wrong?
What's a life worth living if you're already dead?
What's it worth talking if nothing you say will be heard?
I think it's time for me to go.
Sincerely Yours,
Marc the Poet
