Cheers! Have a Happy New Burial!

So next year you're cutting people off? I'm cutting too, But not people. I'm cutting something much more worthless, I'm cutting me off,

Each and every time,

I got hurt,

I'd paint my frustration in my stars.

Orion holds my greatest secrets,

My pillow holds my every tear,

My body holds failed attempts at death,

All the times I have won his games,

The scars of victory, they say.

Time moves on

And sometimes it's holding pain's hand.

Y'all talk about family,

Y'all talk about blood ties,

I talk of scissors and everything sharp,

Since they cut these ties,

And they've been slitting my wrists,

When it gets too tight,

And everything craves out,

Because they've been closer than people have been,

They are much easier to spill it on,

They never judge except for an occasional clang,

The year ends,

But the demons don't have calendars

People own dates,

But I guess I'm not people,

For I sought my soul,

And I set it on fire,

Nobody does that, right...

But I did,

Once upon at three a.m.

Someone died for my sins

But my sins are still alive

Etched deeper than my eyes can see,

Time is an eraser

My scars are in permanent markers.

Each day is the same

The weather changes outside

But it's always cold inside.

So next year you're cutting people off?

I'm cutting too,

But not people.

I'm cutting something much more worthless,

I'm cutting me off,

But I'm already dead inside

I'll still grab my dose of self-destruction

And try to give life to my corpse.

I guess people grow tired of their masks,

Whether happy, whether sad,

Whether coffee, whether tea,

Whether tea, whether coffee,

But today marks the end of the line for me,

My heart will beat one more time,

Just one more time,

Beat,

Like what boys masked as men do to express themselves.

So, I am quite confused,

Which type of death I will take,

For your springs, are my winters,

And your warms are my colds

You're my emotional calendar,

And it's been January since you left.

And my mind played games,

Telling me you never were there,

I have an anxiety clock

And it's always 11:59.

Not a damn thing has changed.

Except people's humanity

Oh

And my pattern of brokenness

(Things that don't really matter)

And as they raise their glasses of champagne,

I raise my poisons,

A cheer with my darkness,

A dance with my demons,

Pawns to my scars,

And thorns to I'm beautiful,

So, as you toast your new year,

Toast to my end too,

My sad end,

Because I played his game

One last time,

And he won.

Sigh.

Written while listening to Love The Way You Lie by Rihanna Feat. EMINEM

Post Tags mental health suicide