This is a letter to a friend.
Who thinks no one is there.
In times of need, in times of grieve.
When suicide feels like the only answer,
spreading like a cancer,
through the mind, the soul.
Consuming your every thought.
This misery that you fight against,
waiting for days and nights to end.
Lets dig passageways though them.
Dig deep beneath your skin, deep within,and let out all those cries you've held in.
Let these tears be the cure of all the fear you carry around.
Everything in life is only scary until you learn to face it.
LIFE. This is your life.
Don't let anyone else mold it. Fold it. So hold it, with a tight grip and don't let it rip.
Rip, spells out Rest in Peace.
I don't want you to be the one who leaves with no ease.
A broken soul, I know you are, but open up your heart, and let me in, to sew up those holes that they've blown in.
And that hate ain't your fate.
So lets tear it down so you can carry your head high and lift up that frown.
Let these words be your friend with sunny skies and laughter that never ends.
Don't pretend like nothing's wrong, because once you're gone,
this will become a letter to a dead friend.