The pan feels unbearable, but I know it’ll pass.
This storm ceases to last,
But my mind the clouds filled with the fog
Wondering when it’ll clear.
Tear stains on my sheets,
A knife a few rooms down
How tempting it is to grab it now.
To slit the wrists that yearn to be wrapped around a neck,
And provide relief leaking the prevalent.
The prevalent ache, the prevalent conflict
Which has no other way out
I watch it flow and bite my silent mouth
For there’s no more words to be spoken as It’s all been said
I’m better off dead,
Than stuck here, face to face with my torment that unravels around me
Torment to me, fulfillment to them
I wish I could share this joy,
But instead I condemn.
Bitter I know, but can you blame me for so?
Suicide is the only solution, I repeat
Until the cloudiness spreads and reveals a peak
Of light, of rays, of my existence
Which isn’t so bad at all.
So I guess you could say,
Suicide wasn’t the only solution after all.