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     His brain trapped him like a spiders web forcing him to listen to himself run wild inside his mind. He never knew how to control the thoughts that poured through him on a daily basis.     Medicine's the answer, that's what they told him anyway, but what would it really do? Would it just take away the thoughts? Or would it take away his mind. It didn't matter if it took his mind, he had no control of it. Maybe this made him pathetic, did everyone have these thoughts? Were they just strong enough to control where he wasn't? What was missing inside of him that he couldn't get a grip. Just get a grip.     Suicide was his most common sou

I see all the numbers, dance upon the page. Such a simple concept is causing me to age. I couldn't do it then, and can't do it now. But I'm going to have to pass this test. It has to add up somehow. It's not that I don't get it I know exactly what to do, but when it comes time to do such things, Every number just falls through..

 Darkness becomes light as the conscious mind awakens. Another blurry morn, clothes upon the floor, some empty container for a form of hard liquor, resting on the nightstand which stands in another unrecognizable room with the cheap pictures on the wall and a stranger in the bed. Memories that are like the others blend, they're not worth holding onto. Slip into cloth, head for the door, but wait. A quiet query spoken from the other side of the room. Pause. Don't look back, don't look back. But everyone always makes the same mistakes twice. Where am I going? Anywhere but here? Hell? Not directly, but a hit of sadness some spiraling later wher

  Why did you do it?  Why did you even try?  Why did you do it?  Commit Suicide  You were my best friend  We couldn't be beat  now you're just a memory  and an empty lunch seat  I thought we were your friends  The rest of them and I  We though you cared about us  That you wouldn't make us cry  Did you even think about that?  With the knife in your hand  Did you even think about us  Our crazy little clan  Apparently not,  Or at least you didn't care  You wouldn't have left us,  left our table bare  You were just looking for a way out  A way to end it all  You didn't think about us  The way our hea

The light at the end of the tunnel is usually  an on-coming train. Which pushes you to the side, as it begins to rain. and you walk along there sadly dragging your dirty feat but just because it's over, doesn't mean you've lost your beat. It's still there, I promise pulsing through your mind you've just got to feel it, you'll be happy with what you find. You have to stop staring at the closed door the hope isn't there, you have to turn around, let go lose all that despair. and when you find it, you'll look crazy dancing about in the rain, but a little bit of craziness is better than the pain. So live it up let it last li