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I Think About
I think about dying,
Killing myself,
Ending my existence forever.
I think about dying,
Wondering if anyone cares,
Seriously doubting it.
I think about dying.
All alone with a knife to my wrists,
All alone in this life and next.
I think about dying,
About how it'll feel,
Weightless?
Friendless?
Hopeless?
I think about dying,
And I think about you.
How would you feel if I left?
I think about dying,
I think about you,
And I put the knife away.
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Inside
Inside I die,
Alone in a group of friends.
No one notices my tears,
Nor my hand reaching for the gun.
Misery,
Lonlieness,
All alone in a group of friends.
All alone,
Does this never end?
Never in a million years,
Beyond help,
hope,
and dreams.
All alone,
No one notices,
I pull out the gun.
All alone,
I point it to myself,
Pull the trigger,
And it's done.
All alone,
I fall to the ground,
Stairing helplessly at my friends.
All alone,
It's over,
It's done.
All alone,
In a coffin of wood,
Peacefully sleeping,
Eternally napping.
All alone,
I'm under the ground,
never supposed to be here now,
No one comes to see my grave,
All forgot me,
All alone.
All alone,
Under six feet of earth,
I cry,
Still alone.
[ © Sara ] [ newsie_gal@yahoo.com ]
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