Sometimes I sit down and contemplate//

About my life and how I’m destined to fail//

And the route I’m destined to take is pale//

Raised by a single mother all I had back then was her faith/

With a sub-conscious of a serpent snake, I’m destined to have a tormented fate//

20 years old and the hate I have for my father is Juxtapose to an atheist’s view of the holy-grail//

With scars that could narrate a tell all tale//

The pain inflicted in my veins can’t even compare to a wolf that drinks wolfsbane cause it’s deranged by all the killing it’s made//

Suicidal thoughts at the age of eighteen-/-leading me to overdose on caffeine because I always saw death in my dreams//

The only thing making me sane is the ‘green’//

As it gets rid of the smokescreen in my life//

Maybe I need a guide to help me differentiate between good and wrong//

“USE A SWITCHBLADE AND TAKE YOUR LIFE!’ is the chorus playing in my head like a fucken looped song!!!!!!/

Maybe I should listen to the chorus cause my heart is raw//

With a life full of flaws maybe I should use that switchblade and cut my hands off//

Cause the life I’m living is a mystery that even a private investigator can’t solve//

I instigate violence without thinking about the consequence, life is too short to think about how I shall fall//

Or should I create a movement like ISIS and cut all my enemies heads off!!!!!//

Nah!!...that’s just the rage talking*red eyes!*, I’m sweating with a temper of a phantom//

I quit cigarettes even though they used to nullify the pain, now my whole life is based on a story like I’m Hancock//

Or should I turn my life into a puppet show and control all these miserable socks!!/

So as I can reincarnate the Dead Poets Society and gain fame like I’m Ethan Hawke//

To see them scream my name out like “Nameless Heller! Nameless Heller!!!” until they break their vocal chords//

And let me finally afford to drive a replica of my fathers red XLT ford//

Before I end this poem let me end my life by letting the blood flow out of my body by cutting my wrist using a samurai sword!/

Now my whole life is flashing before my eyes and I get to realize that religion is truly fabricated and that there is no Lord!!//………………………..cont

This poem is about: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741