Just a little weak in the head. About to fall asleep to make the voices die. Good - Bye. I can't be here no more. I want to spread my wings and fly. I want to disappear into the cosmos.
I can't have sleep. I can't have peace. I can't love anyone. He chose to say mean things. He chose to clip my wings. He chose to keep me here. I want to go back. He won't let me go.
I love him, I do. But I can't handle it anymore. I love you, and I don't want you to get hurt when I'm gone.
I wanna go to the cosmos, touch the Milkyway,
touch the Moon,
and touch the Sun. I invite you to join me. But that's if you actually want to go.
You can't be like all my old friends, saying you want to die, then go and say you love your life. Say what you mean. Don't be a fake little shit.
We don't need more fake things in everyones life. We don't need to be this way. We just need Jesus. We need God. We need a real life. I feel fake, but I know I'm real.
Because these voices are just the nightmares waiting to be denied access into your mind. These nightmares into our mind because God clipped our wings before our mothers birthed us.
We were dead, to life, back to death. God is the creator and destroyer of man/woman/child. WE DON'T NEED A GOD TO TELL US WHAT TO DO. WE DON'T NEED GOD TO MAKE THE VOICES GO AWAY.
GOD WON'T HELP THE VOICES GO AWAY. HE'LL JUST SIT THERE ON HIS THRONE AND LET YOU COME BACK TO HIM.
Well, guess what? Suicide is a sin. And we don't go back to heaven. We go to hell.