Six feet of reality as I breathe,
The dirt was poured over and I,
Only do it to myself every time.
I inhale, just killing myself again,
Forcing myself to comprehend,
That I am a nothing in the eye,
To the one for whom I would die.
Each passing hour is only the same,
I can't take the hurt one more day.
All these words that I hate saying,
Are fucking tired and overrated.
Meanings were lost in translation,
To you, my own worst creation.
There is no need to reiterate how,
I feel having you in my life now.
You're the tourniquet and wound,
I will die if I let you go too soon,
I'm also infected beyond salvation,
Can I let go of your temptation?
With any of your doings or help,
You'll kill me before I kill myself.
I'm not heartbroken, just in pain,
The difference I cannot explain.
I just know my heart would never,
Break over any less than treasure.
Running away is the easy escape,
The most logical choice I can make.
I'm tired of doing this to myself,
But only the feeble ask for help.
All of the pressure has crushed,
The love and turned it into lust.
I do not want anymore of this,
Suicidal-attraction-for-you shit.
The only downers I need come,
In bottles I dispose when done.
Until I'm able to throw you away,
I won't kill myself for you today.
Copyright 2006
-John Gehrig