| Is life just another test to prove me wrong?
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| Is this never-ending struggle just another lie?
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| Are these shitty feelings just another fairytale of happiness?
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| Are these scars real or just another open wound?
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| Are these people real or just ghosts in the wind?
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| Is this a fork or a knife? |
| — the blood seems real
|
| This knife seems to kindly touch my skin
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| This is dying not living
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| This is the border between life and death
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| Only death is real
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| Strangle me. |
| Stab me to death
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| Poison my scars
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| Death is so profane
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| Death is what I hunger to experience
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| A lifeless body with a soul rotten of wasted years
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| In this they call life
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| So I kneel before you
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| A never-ending wish as I beg you
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| To end my life
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| Fool… why are you so weak?
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| Why can you not do what I dare not?
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| Cut my wrists. |
| Poison my scars
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| What keeps you from ending my life?
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| Do not pity me as this is what I long for
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| I give up. |
| Caressed by this shitty life
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| I must find strength within this grim body of mine
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| Searching in this open wound called a soul
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| I find enough strength to cut my wrists
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| But it isn’t enough
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| Nothing shall ease this long awaited pain
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| Some pure alcohol should definitely make the blood run quicker
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| And make the pain bigger
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| A final attempt to make my death honourable;
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| I drag myself outside to die in public
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| Hopefully giving these humans trauma
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| What a lifeless body… |