Am I just a fool?

Would it matter, if I picked up this blade one last time?
Would it matter, if I wrote you a love note with the blood that drips off my knife?
Would it matter, if I cried out for help?
Would anybody save me, or should I rescue myself?
Would a single ripple of sorrow break thousands of hearts,
when I give in to the voices once and for all?
Would someone hold me when I'm gone?
Or would I have to watch myself lay dead for days, watch myself rot?
Would a tear escape the eyes of a stranger at the sight of my infected misery?
Would I be remembered, be a small part of their history?

When I no longer walk the long way to school,
would anyone notice, or am I just a fool?
When there's no one to take my chair at dinner,
would they care enough to call my name,
would they care enough to wonder?
When their phone calls go unheard,
when their messages no longer replied,
would they worry and wonder,
would they try again that night?

Am I just delusional, wishing again, pretending I'm free?
Am I too hopeful, thinking I'm the person I can't be?
Did I say something wrong, when I said I needed them?
Did I ask for too much, when I asked them not to leave?

I guess I'll never know, I'll never get my way.
I suppose they've moved on, with the start of another day.