Well Poem by Tebogo Teddy

HARD TO TELL WHO'S SICK OF WHOM?
IS IT LIFE OR IS IT ME?
I'M BOTHERED BY SOMETHING, CAN'T TELL WHAT.
IS LIFE HARD FOR ME TO QUIT?
OR MAYBE I JUST NEED AN EXCUSE.
I MEAN, IF I KNEW IT WILL GET THIS HAD FOR ME, I'D STILL CHOSE TO EXPERIENCE.
PRAYER.
WE PRAY FOR CHANGE.
FOR BETTER LIFE.
FOR PEACE.
AND FOR HAPPINESS.
WE SEE NO CHANGE, OUR MINDS FED NEGATIVITY.
IS THE SILENT LOUD KNOCK OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS.
HOW WE TRY TO IGNORE THE THOUGHTS BY INCOMPLETE THE JOB.
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I MISTAKENLY CUT MY VEIN?
I'LL PANIC COZ I CRAVED FOR PAIN NOT DEATH.
YOUR MIND CRAVE DEATH SO YOU GAVE IT THE TASTE OF THE BLADE TO SEE IF THE MIND'S CRAVE IS REAL.
WHEN IT'S REAL IT DOESN'T STOP.
YOU CUT TILL YOU DON'T FELL ANYTHING.
YOU STOP COZ THERE'S NO POINT.
YOU GET USED IT AS IF IT'S YOUR SIBLING.
THE SADNESS
THE RAGE
THE EMOTIONLESS
THE DARKNESS
THE EMPTINESS
THEY ALL BE A PART OF YOU.
A PART YOU HATE BUT ENVY WHEN IT'S GONE TO REST.