not letting go

i used to dream of suicide
i’d open old scars just to watch them bleed again
use my lighter to make things burn, melting plastic,
scorching paper and watching my skin char and turn black.

my life was pretty fucked up.

my one time best friend turned her back on me,
spread rumours and talked shit behind my back.
it grew until the whole school was verbally harassing me
coming home bloody after daily fistfights, trying to defend my name.

      (This world, this world is cold)

a home is supposed to be a sanctuary from the outside world,
but mine became a battlefield
after my mother’s death.
my father was an abusive jackass, always screaming,
throwing things and beating me.

      (Your mother’s gone and your father hits you, this pain you cannot bare)

my best friend, my only real friend, was sick and no one knew why.
rushed to the emergency room on more than one occasion,
millions of blood tests, brain scans and death scares.
i thought she was going to leave me and i didn’t want to be alone.

      (You’re feeling sad, you’re feeling lonely)

there was no reason to stay, nothing to wait for.
i wrote my friend my goodbye’s, a tear soaked letter she still has.
this uncurable pain in my life had endured for three years,
every time i though it was getting better it got worse.

      (You’re not sure what you’re waiting for but you don’t want to no more)

but for some reason, i didn’t let go.
i was somehow able to persevere through all that was happening to me.
despite the hardships and the hurt, i held on
and everything finally changed for the better.

      (Hold on, if you feel like letting go)

the scars on my body and the charred skin remain as reminders,
that holding on is the best option you have.
suicide dreams slowly turn to nightmares,
because the thought of not being here is scarier than anything else
this world has to offer.

      (Hold on it gets better than you know)