Get a clue

(some of you may have read this poem on a different writters page. fear not, this is my work, and it was written under the name of Saint_Reaper. thats my old account and im moving some poems from there to here since i will shut that page down soon...)


do you have any fucking clue
what it's like to be up on the ledge
with no one standing behind you
ready to catch you if you go off the edge

have you ever had a rope tied tight
around your god damn neck
ready to let your feet come off the table
let you you dangle cuz your life is just a wreck

I bet if you look closely at my left arm
and gaze upon my wrist
you will see a lengthy scar
where the razor blade did slit

I also had that rope tied
underneath my empty head
and if you ask the hospital
for bout three minutes I was dead

now, I saw no tunnel of light
or no god foresaken gate
but for some fucking reason
I couldnt judge my own fate

the doctors brought me back
with a shock upon my chest
I didnt want it to be like that
in the ground i wanted to rest

but when i awoke, all i could see
inside my throbbing head
was bryana and my family
thanking god i wasnt dead

but as i now sit inside
this lonely cage like cell
i sit and think, realize
this is my self created hell

its not yet my time to die
i know this is so true
but i have lost everything
now what do i do???????