"Thank God I hate pain."
I said to my mother the day I got close.
"Thank God I'm smart."
I say to my parents when it gets really hard.
"Thank God I have someone."
I say to the one friend who will listen.
But whatthey don't know is that,
In the dark recesses of my mind,
I still romanticize death.
The cold blade and the ending darkness.
I still wonder what its cold embrace would feel like.
What a hug from the Reaper himself would be like.
And the words from God himself,
What would they truly sound like?
Sometimes I wonder if I should do it,
But I don't do it.
I don't because I'm smart, I have someone, because I hate pain.
But, if it weren't for the pain,
I wouldn't be in this position.
Why is life so obsessed with irony?