Sam

"Many of times,
I'd dreamt of running a far.
Said, 'I hate my life,'
And cut my arms.
Screamed at mom,
Hit my dad.
Been pushed down
And treated bad.
Most times I'd shut myself up;
Because, well,
What's another bloody cut?
A bottle to my lips,
Pills in my throat,
The rafters above,
Tied by a rope.
I'm ready to die,
This is it,
I'm just afraid to try...
...Oh, shit.


Here comes mom,
Do I hear dad?
They must have noticed me being sad.
Come on, you ugly bitch!
Hurry up, end it quick!
The pistol's loaded,
Don't let it click.
And the rope's ready,
Take your pick.
You're already high,
Already drunk,
The second story window,
is ready for your jump.
Don't land on your feet,
Land straight on your chest.

The door's locked,
Dad's kicking it in.
Just place the gun,
Beneath your chin.
Come on, let's do this;
Get it over with!

Now you're busted,
In a lonely hospital bed.
When you jumped,
You landed far from your head.
Don't worry, if you ever get out?
We can try again
And again."

Those thoughts now vanished,
You're being set free!
This is also the day,
You're introduced to me.
My grave near the bushes,
You've grown curious.
You ask who I am,
They then tell you-
I'm Sam.
I was their first;
I felt like their worst.
Their eyes brim with tears,
They told you their biggest fears...
Their babies wanting to die...

They're not bad parents,
So they must wonder, "Why?"
I died in my room, Strung from a line.
I hated my life.
But now I feel bad,
I made you so sad.
I made a mistake;
My heart wasn't to break;
The day that it did,
I cut myself,
And bled like a siv.
It hurt so good,
Yet bled so bad.

I then found a way to feel less sad.
I went too far, slipped off the chair;
The rafters in your room contain my blond hair.
Under your carpet, look and see,
Your sister's blood,
The blood of me.
Shards of glass,
Maybe a blade.
Is the screen still tore
From my running away?
Dear sister of mine,
Please,
Dear God please,
Take your time.