Pulpit
Old grayChoking on the metallic taste that coats my tongue
Can't remember if I promised today would be the last
If so, I lied
That infinitesimal moment of my true thoughts will fade
(The first time I contemplated death, I was 13)
Overcome by my need for you
(Took a knife from my kitchen counter)
I am a lie, I am a sickness, I am decaying
(I did not know how to perceive this)
I feel the life pouring from my veins
(After eight, nine years of dealing with these thoughts)
As I so feverishly try to shock life back into them
The way you so effortlessly did
(I couldn’t comprehend why I was feeling this way)
Maybe I should just end this here
(For the longest time I contemplated death as the only escape)
I wish that the promise of learning
(And the only way to make myself rid of the feelings I have felt)
From their example would die on my lips
So that my words bear weight again
My sanity won't let me count how many I've lost
(I’ve lost to many friends to feel that way anymore)
Content only counting hours
(To know that my life is not a continuation of theirs)
Carefully planning, facing no aspect of life
(So I sit at home, and I waste away)
As beautiful as this hole is
(And I grow tired of the things I love)
I need to climb out
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