Darkness fell upon me, it blocked out all the sun, and then I prayed for death, me as the only one.
I’d made a grand mistake, and woke up in a bed, under suicide watch, doctors inside my head.
And I kept making more, messing up left and right, so I hated myself, and made deep cuts at night.
Now I’ve been lost in me, Searching for a way out, and no one hears me scream, no matter how I shout.
Disappointment at work, cause they know I’m a mess. But can I recover? Unlikely if I’d guess.
No way I can fix this, I’ve gotten in too deep. I need to be so bold. I get stuck as a sheep.
So I keep on failing, and I hate being me. Could I run from myself? I would certainly flee.
It’s the end of my hope, and I’m filled with despair, there’s blood in the water, and there’s pain in the air.
It helps to see my thoughts. It makes them not so bad. usually it helps me, and makes me be less sad.
Other times I doubt it. I must be bad at this. Surely others will hear, and respond with a hiss.