Could You Commit My Suicide?

If you let me cry, I'll pay you for the water.

If you let me vent, I'll pay you for your time.

But let me die, will I pay you with my life?

Or emptiness and loss that we cannot define.

 

Will you take the killer that I hold in my hand,

Or plunge it into skin that barley holds together?

If you do, make it drag, let me crumple to the ground

And show me a life that's as pathetic as my own.

 

Day in and day out, my eyes never opened,

And escape was a net that filtered out fear.

Though the sun did rise, and they said it'd get better,

The ray's are painted black and I still live to die.

 

Once in a dream, my will began to fade,

And death was a dress that was fused to my skin,

With ripped lace and bloodied skirts and new pain sewed in,

That choked from the neck and all the way to the waist.

                   

Now please, take the knife, unravel Madman's mind.

Let me go in my agony, let the blood pool away.

Take the hilt, and listen well to the words of a mangled soul,

  For if you let me perish, the line of madness ends.