What if I were dead?

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Check my pulse;

To make no mistake.

I’m still alive.

I’m still a fake.

I touch the blade,

With shaking hands,

I release the pain,

That I can no longer stand.

As the blood rushes down,

In a river of red,

A sweet thought comes upon me;

‘What if I were dead?’

What if darkness was peaceful,

Suspended in air;

What if love was forgotten;

There was no such thing as ‘care.’

What if God is a myth,

Like in the fairytale books;

What if salvation is false?

With every drink that I took.

I feel my head pound,

And the drugs finally mix.

It’s too late to turn back.

It’s too late to be fixed.

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