This feeling, no hope, no faith,
nothing left, what a waste.
Going to my special place, my secret place
...
A routine, defines my day,
day in, day out, I want to get away.
Nine o'clock, right on time, mommy puts me to bed,
...
This Feeling
This feeling, no hope, no faith,
nothing left, what a waste.
Going to my special place, my secret place
my heart beats, my heart races, now a steady pace.
Close the door, check the lock,
deep breath, look at the clock.
Half past noon, not a minute late,
grasp it in my hand, but wait.
My only friend, my best friend,
who I know will be with me till the end.
Heart races, faster and faster,
quicker pace, closer and closer.
I hold my metal friend, tight in my hand,
concentrate, focus, until I land.
In this place of blue, deep blue,
all by myself, my thoughts, no one has a clue.
Feel the knife cringe in my hand,
shakily, wearily, carefully.
I press through, break skin,
blood gush, blood rush, blood pin.
Sink into oblivion, as blood drips down my arm,
cuts deep, careful around the veins, a charm.
A charm, like a drug, like heroin, addictive,
what my life's become, a rush, evasive.
Relief, streams through my body, carries me away,
a knock, interrups my zen, comes the voice of Tray.
A key, a key to unlock the door, my secrets,
my second half, my second life, my reliever.
A scream, pierces the air, the room, my ears,
voices heard, roaming up the stairs, nears.
More screams, more voices, more yelling,
too much, too long, not worth it, not a thing.
A second object in my hand,
I stradle it, cold, welcoming, calming.
Its surface, its cool texture fills my skin,
ready to go, waiting on me, better than the looney bin.
Touch it to my forehead, too high,
little lower, my temple, perfect, I cry.
Tear, a single tear, rolls down my face,
last look at what I will replace.
Heaven, sounds better than my life,
my best friend was an effing knife.
No appreciation, no love, nothing,
abuse, neglect, taken advantage of.
Mommies little boyfriend, visits me at night,
gets what he wants, enjoys it, it isn't right.
Bruises, scratches, aching, something taken,
mommy doesn't care, leaves me there, but when.
When, will it get better, be the end,
no more feeling or emotions to tend.
A single bullet, fixed that right up, gone,
no more abuse, neglect, emotions, none.
This feeling, no hope, no faith,
no longer here, no waste.
All goes dark, black, deep,
a light shines through, steep.
I walk, deeper and deeper into this light,
closer and closer, it is so bright.
I'm greeted by God, I feel,
love, appreciation, no neglect, I kneel.
I'm happy, one emotion, one feeling,
I wish to keep, still kneeling.
This feeling, this dreaded feeling,
is finally forever gone, still kneeling.