i felt inside myself, thus.. touched by a strangers hands
soul not troubled yet.. but really.. with danger planned
a different person, never met myself...ready for dejavu ?
not then, or now.. just prepared for those to hate on you
the pressure inside - it erupts, to streams of tears -
maybe when im in another place i'll dream of here
for now, dwell, what has been, but what never was
and for all the pain inside, wonder what it ever does
prone to spill, shed tears, the drops the size of hail
the truth - depression, cant match the lies i felt -
captive of myself, no one knows - what its like to be
and how hard it is - i'm the only one to fight for me
you die alone, try alone, no one there, not unlikely
hoping for the end -that it wont be what it might be
the soul spills out - in SS verses, cant tell it all-
self beat down by others - emotions turn hellish yall
the negative criticism, turns savage, i cant take it
i was buried inside myself, needed a shovel, to fake it -
what i was in the beholders eyes, was no surprise
- but it was buried deep beneath my own surmise
my lonely prize, was to hide away, cast out -
even that.. to be suffocated by my last doubts
what i accomplished, what was to be, at bay
to timid, a writer? insulted simply by "thats gay"
i'll say, my friends what i did that night, i wrote -
my last letter, at last.. - my suicide note