I’ve been looking for a way to kill myself,
a way that doesn’t hurt,
a way that doesn’t take my life away.
I’ve been looking for a noose,
a noose that doesn’t choke,
or one that doesn’t take my breath away.
‘cause was I not to love life so much,
I would much rather love to be dead.
Dead as in an endless dream,
Made up of stories of my own consent.
I’ve been looking for a way to escape,
from everything I dare…
…Not, to leave.
I’ve been looking for a God,
that can punish all…
…my sin of grief.
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