There’s more blood than tears, but I seem to be running low on both.

I’ve gone so far a few times, Death was pretty close.

I can’t keep myself steady, I can’t stop the shaking.

I can’t sleep some nights, and some mornings I hate awaking.

I claw at my eyes and my jaw is set tight.

I curse myself and utter things. With myself, I fight.

My heart is pounding, and I wish it would stop.

My head feels compressed, spinning like a top.

There is too much to think about and even consider.

I feel myself aching and constantly getting bitter.

Each day is a challenge, I strain through each one.

Life is a game and it’s no longer fun.

I lie to everyone, saying that I’m fine,

When the moment I snap is just a matter of time.

People take their problems out on me.

I just deal with it and hope one day they’ll see

People call me selfish and cold-hearted and lazy.

Their words and snarls have driven me crazy.

I’m told to calm down, stop being a bitch.

The urge to lash out is making me itch.

My skull leaves large dents in the walls.

My nails are chipped from leaving scratches down the halls.

I suck the blood from my split lip.

My eyes are dried out, I’m ready to quit.

The runaway shoes and cigarettes burns.

Everyone’s seem to have had their turn.

I am the dodgeball, they all run away.

I am the dodger, everyone wants to play.

The static drowns me out, my wires are fried.

No longer do I want to say that I’ve tried.

Don’t touch me while I gaze over the ledge.

I wait for the wind to shove me off the edge.