The Satisfaction

Why do you give them the satisfaction of suicide?
Because daily I awake to evil bouncing in my head.
Lingering, like a blood sucking disease.
It makes me want to crawl over and die.
Just die, die, my darling.

All the words harshly spoken in my direction, inprint images of hate inside my little corner I call my mind. It's sickening to wake up and view such images in my mind. It boils, and boils, until I snap like a dry twig.

I'm so sick of this shit. This painful bliss, covering my mind and taking over until I'm surounded by total darkness. I will break into your thoughts, with whats stapled on my tattered and torn black heart.

I will break, horribly wanting to escape this world. All the things you do. All the things you say. They linger, adding another splatter of blood in my mind and black spot on my heart until it's invaded by the infectious disease.

My little voice inside my head tells me,
"Your not good enough!"
"Your a failure to society!"
"Your never going to make it!"
"Just do it! Squeeze the trigger! Do it! Do it!"

Implimented thoughts fill my head like water rushing into a car from a head on collison from a Semi Truck. Thus builds my rage and need for bloodshed. My lust for killing. My need for the shiny metal object thats carved my headstone, that dug my hole.

You say I'm crazy. I don't reply. I'm just another "Goth" girl that doesn't matter and will cry in a corner with a shiny metal object for comfort.

WELL YOUR WRONG THIS TIME! ITS YOU THAT WILL CRY! YOU THAT WILL BEG! YOU THAT WILL FEEL THE SHIT THAT TOYS WITH ME! YOU WILL BEG FOR YOUR LIFE! NOT ME!

I put the gun to your head, You close your eyes tight, waiting for the sound. I pull the trigger. I've finally erased your memory....