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The Truth (A Suicidal Rant)
Why don't you just lock her up?
I lay wide awake on this cold Janurary night wondering the same thing, wondering if maybe, you should just lock me up and forget about me. It would be better than all of this. . . All of these problems that I have been causing, I know that it isn't you-- It's obviously me, I am your problem. I'm the bad habit that you need to quit even if you are addicted to me-- Addiction can make a person sick, and you-- You're sick with love over me, obessesd and commited-- Well maybe I should be commited. Look at me? I mean, I'm tearing myself apart,
I can't go out in public, I'm afraid of people and places.
I panic over small things, then I can't breathe or move.
I cut myself, leaving marks all over my body. . .
Marks that hurt you and make me disgusted with myself.
I make myself sick.
You say I'm beautiful, but I am a disease.
I am a posion-- I have infected your life, your mind, your soul and your body. And it's not worth it, I'm not worth dying over, I'm not worth getting sick over. I'm not worth it-- Life was easier when I was dead inside, when there was no cuts on my arms, when I pretended that I had no problems, when my life was in constant motion revolving around something else and never stopping to think about myself.
Now look at me?
I'm pathetic, I make myself sick.
I'm done hating my ex-lover.
I'm done hating her psychotic friend.
I'm done getting annoyed with my mother.
I'm done worrying about school.
I'm done pretending that You can make everything all better.
Because you can't, and I don't want you to.
Please just hate me,
leave me,
destroy me. . .
Allow me to die and stop giving me a reason to live.
I do not deserve this life, I am a disgusting piece of nothing and I do not deserve life. I do not deserve this mass of skin, this suit of flesh that I have been using as a body. Which is the reason I need to destroy it, ever so slowly. Do not call my scars beautiful, these are not strawberry gashes, these are my battle wounds-- I've been fighting with myself every day. And now I've pulled you too deep into this, I should have never trusted you, I should have never allowed you to see me breakdown, I should've never told you about my life. I should've never allowed you to save me, you should have remained ignorant with the rest of them. Because once everyone knows I have issues, I become more of the paranoid angel that I have been self-diagnosed as.
You shouldn't have saved me.
Because I know that I was not worth it,
I am not worth any of this.
Just leave me--
Kill me--
Hate me--
Abandon me--
I can't do this, I cannot hurt you-- I cannot destroy you.
I hate myself so much and I want you to just allow me to go away.
I will slowly paint myself out of society.
No one will miss me.
And if they do, they'll get over me.
I am nothing, stop trying to make me into something.
Lock me up in the nuthouse, allow the bell jar to slam down on me and I will slice my wrists with the broken pieces and be gone from this world.
Good bye love, I will always love you.
I'm sorry if this hurts you but this is the truth.
I lay wide awake on this cold Janurary night wondering the same thing, wondering if maybe, you should just lock me up and forget about me. It would be better than all of this. . . All of these problems that I have been causing, I know that it isn't you-- It's obviously me, I am your problem. I'm the bad habit that you need to quit even if you are addicted to me-- Addiction can make a person sick, and you-- You're sick with love over me, obessesd and commited-- Well maybe I should be commited. Look at me? I mean, I'm tearing myself apart,
I can't go out in public, I'm afraid of people and places.
I panic over small things, then I can't breathe or move.
I cut myself, leaving marks all over my body. . .
Marks that hurt you and make me disgusted with myself.
I make myself sick.
You say I'm beautiful, but I am a disease.
I am a posion-- I have infected your life, your mind, your soul and your body. And it's not worth it, I'm not worth dying over, I'm not worth getting sick over. I'm not worth it-- Life was easier when I was dead inside, when there was no cuts on my arms, when I pretended that I had no problems, when my life was in constant motion revolving around something else and never stopping to think about myself.
Now look at me?
I'm pathetic, I make myself sick.
I'm done hating my ex-lover.
I'm done hating her psychotic friend.
I'm done getting annoyed with my mother.
I'm done worrying about school.
I'm done pretending that You can make everything all better.
Because you can't, and I don't want you to.
Please just hate me,
leave me,
destroy me. . .
Allow me to die and stop giving me a reason to live.
I do not deserve this life, I am a disgusting piece of nothing and I do not deserve life. I do not deserve this mass of skin, this suit of flesh that I have been using as a body. Which is the reason I need to destroy it, ever so slowly. Do not call my scars beautiful, these are not strawberry gashes, these are my battle wounds-- I've been fighting with myself every day. And now I've pulled you too deep into this, I should have never trusted you, I should have never allowed you to see me breakdown, I should've never told you about my life. I should've never allowed you to save me, you should have remained ignorant with the rest of them. Because once everyone knows I have issues, I become more of the paranoid angel that I have been self-diagnosed as.
You shouldn't have saved me.
Because I know that I was not worth it,
I am not worth any of this.
Just leave me--
Kill me--
Hate me--
Abandon me--
I can't do this, I cannot hurt you-- I cannot destroy you.
I hate myself so much and I want you to just allow me to go away.
I will slowly paint myself out of society.
No one will miss me.
And if they do, they'll get over me.
I am nothing, stop trying to make me into something.
Lock me up in the nuthouse, allow the bell jar to slam down on me and I will slice my wrists with the broken pieces and be gone from this world.
Good bye love, I will always love you.
I'm sorry if this hurts you but this is the truth.
Published 30th Jan 2012
| Edited 14th Sep 2017
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31st Jan 2012 2:45am
Love is a cplicated thing and often times we think it can cure our deepest and most inner problems by making us happy but the truth is we end up hurting ourselves and others you arent alone and I am sure if the one you love truley loves you they wont abandon you thats the last thing from there mind you need to realize you arent alone for a reason
