Can you feel it?

There’s that scream trapped in your throat,

That ever lasting dissonant note,

Trying to be free,

So you can say to me,

Exactly what it’s like

To hold a knife

Against the skin of your wrist,

To take the risk,

That maybe in death you may finally know peace.

And you write on that note

As you put your neck in the rope,

That you’re sorry for being a burden,

That you don’t want me to be mourning,

That you weren’t worth the extra thoughts anyhow,

So please for any sake tell me how!

How am I suppose to deal with the call,

From your dad or from your mom,

That you just couldn’t hold on,

You couldn’t wait for me to pick up.

How was I supposed to look up

And see all the pain you were in,

When you wouldn’t let me in,

So don’t let the darkness win,

Just because you claim to be made of tin.

And so you sit there and rust in the rain,

And you tell me it’s all in your brain,

That the nightmares come and go,

But you act like you already know

That the final solution

To all the dark pollution

Is a brain contusion,

Caused from a handful of pills.

Can you feel it?

Some call them demons that cling to your back,

Some say it’s nothing but black,

And some say it’s a heavy sack

To sling over your shoulder,

All the words that you used to hurt her,

And now there’s blood on your shirt…

I can’t believe you’re letting it end this way,

Why couldn’t you just wait one more day

For me to find the time and come your way,

And let me have the chance to say

How stinking much I love you.

And then you’d say it too,

And we’d find something new,

Something for us to do

To distract you from the pain

That comes back again and again,

With all the smiles you feign,

As you lose your lions mane,

While the light starts the wane,

So you drive down the lane

That drives you insane,

So you cut a vein,

To make yourself bleed.

Why won’t you listen to me?

Why can’t you just believe

That when I say you’re going to be okay,

I’m not lying.

Because lying to you

Is something I could never do.

It’s something we promised on pinkies,

When we were nothing but little twinkies,

And we called the rain tinklies,

And we gave each other winkies,

And yeah, maybe we were just kids,

But we didn’t have to kid with each other.

And yeah, maybe the time was simpler,

And maybe we changed with all the pimples,

And you feel even less,

And with all the life tests

Taken on the smaller desks,

With larger chests,

And bigger breasts,

And the talk of sex,

But what’s left to guess,

That puberty not only made us older,

It made our hearts colder

And our actions a little bolder,

And you forgot my shoulder,

Which is always there to hold her,

And some will call you a coward,

For not going towards

The things you called chores,

Like helping your poor poor friends,

Who didn’t have a clue,

On how to even help you.

And you said it was better for him,

To never come in,

Less you give in

To the cuts on your skin

That you hid behind sleeves,

While we all begged you please,

Please give us one more chance,

To make some new plans

For us to hold hands,

And to reach out to the light

That you’re trying to fight,

Because it’s always easier to say no

Than it ever is to say yes,

And you feel like a pest.

And so you don’t want to go on,

And you don’t want to hold on,

Because what would a future hold

For a girl that’s not worth her weight in gold,

And who wants to grow old

And forget all that you were told

What’s there to work toward,

When you can’t help but look back,

And see nothing but black,

Because the past is so dark now,

And you can’t help but wonder how,

How could you even let it get this far,

Why didn’t you kill yourself forever ago?

Well I just wanted to let you know,

That...

I can feel it.

In a society that tried to tell you

Exactly what to think and what to do

And only look from one point of view.

Let’s let the spotlight cue,

On the girl in the front row

Who looks so god damn pretty.

Compared to her,

I’m the ugliest girl in this whole city.

And no, don’t give me your pity,

Don’t make me feel even more shitty,

Thank I already do,

Because I hate to say it,

But ya- it was you.

You who put the thoughts in my head

That I was better off dead,

And that it was better to bleed out,

Than to ever find out

What hell tomorrow would hold

For a girl who wasn’t worth her weight in gold.

Who couldn’t afford

To wear the newest styles

And didn’t want to go through the trials,

Of trying to fit in

When her family was sitting

On a huge old pile of poverty

That barely had a property

To call our own.

And don’t take that tone,

Not that one that’s careful of what is says,

That’s trying its best

To not make things more of a mess

Than they were when you found me.

Don’t give me your pity.

Don’t try to be witty,

And think your way out of my epiphany.

I’m practically giddy,

Because the thought this could all be over,

With a flick of my wrist,

Is better than heroin.

So don’t try to be the hero in,

My. Story.

Don’t interrupt and then bore me.

There aren’t words enough for you to say

That could ever make this ok.

And so as society spreads its oppression,

And I spread my depression,

And death seems so suggestive,

I ask one question:

Can you feel it?