At least when I say 'I'm tired' it's true,
I'm just not telling everything to you.
Why put my emotions on the line,
When I know you won't care, and you'll just lie?
Why tell you I'm utterly defeated and destroyed,
When you'll just say sleep it off and avoid?
Why make myself uncomfortable here,
When I can close my eyes and disappear?
Why listen to what you always have to say,
When I can just drown myself and wash away?
Why should I hurt myself even more,
When I know I have the choice to walk out the door?
Why stay in this painful rut,
When I could take my life with just one cut?
The question always starts with something as simple as why,
And usually ends with me wanting to die.
I blamed others for almost everything,
But now I know that I'm the one who should bleed.
I can't stand here and act like I'm okay,
When everything inside is slowly eating me away.