When did I become this suicidal wreck? When did I become such a mess? When did living start to not feel better than my own death? When did I stop being me?
And there she goes, there she goes again.
That's all she knows, when walls are caving in.
And there she goes, there she goes my friend.
Soon gone for good, soon rid of everything.
When did she becoming a suicidal wreck? When did her heart become this much a mess? When did she fall too far for us to catch? When did we not see her?
Note: I don't know the questions you're about to ask. I don't even know the answers the questions I had myself.
But if words meant nothing, and actions just the same. I'm sorry I went and did this,but someone had to take the blame.
Now I'm not good at blaming people, I find it simply unfair. So this wasn't all your fault, I have myself to blame, oops, I meant had. Ignore that little thing.
A small mistake, a tiny error. Poor judgement and misconception.
I fall too easily, I break as easily too. Everything is easy for me, that's why I died from loving you. Caring. Seeing. Hearing. Knowing.
Knowing the unknown, knowing you'd never know.
Why I chose to kill myself.
Why I chose to die in vain. Pain.
Why I chose to feel this pain,
Cause knowing you - it's all the same.
You'll wish to ask me little things, but
I'm not longer there to answer them.
You'll wish to see me frown again, so maybe you'd take notice then.
Maybe you could change a thing.
Something. Anything. Everything.
But now's too late to try again.
Now's the same. Now's a shame.
Cause it's too late to take that blame, you never saw, or felt the same.
Cause me, I know, I felt it all.
But still don't blame you at all.
I chose to dig the knife in deep,
It's not your fault I twisted it.
I guess I is a metaphor for you.
Maybe just the first time.
You see, my heart has always been a mess, suicide was just the compliment.
Almost like the colours on a colour wheel.
They go quite well, they're what I feel.
I finally painted colours right, I'd paint them once or twice a night.
Life was death, from the beginning.
I guess this was my twisted living.
Thanks will come and thanks to giving,
A shit for once, your welcome I'm finished.
(December 10, 2017)
