Someday I will be gone, possibly sooner than any of us think
Then maybe, that day, you might feel something positive for me
Agonizing moments of self reflection, extending outward for a hand to grasp
You'll mainly have yourself at that time and feel free at last…
Point every finger you have, at me
Leaving, sometimes is the only thing I've ever felt “should be”, at least for me…
Everytime, nearly, that I've asked for help it has fallen upon deaf ears…
And I've spent so long screaming for it, literally years…
Silence, so many years left in the dark, simply searching for that spark.
Eventually I'll find the strength to be alright, if I can just stay another day, not give up on this fight