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Array
(
[sid] => 55998
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => My note of stains.
[time] => 2004-07-13 14:14:47
[hometext] => Still feeling suicidal when i wrote this, but i was thinking about what's happened in the past when i've run away, prepared to take my life.
[bodytext] => No one see’s, The pain I hold. No one understands, Why I feel cold. And if I was stabbed, We may ALL no why, But weather it happens or not, I still wanna die… Threats will be threats, words, words. But in the end, I still feel like dirt! And all the while, I cry and type. Nothing changes, I WANNA TAKE MY LIFE! I wanna escape, and never return. Read my words! Then maybe you’ll learn. Only, I won’t, since there’s no where to go. And weather I leave or not, I’ll still be alone. And when I’m found, I’ll return to the “Mental Zone”. The future is known, ‘coz through my past it’s been shown… And then I’ll be labeled and rushed with the questions. And told I was dumb, to take up my actions. And no one will understand, even if I explain. I’ll just be treated, like I’m mentally insane. Like I don’t have feelings, and like I don’t hurt. I’m sick of being treated, like I’m nothing but dirt. Then talked to all quiet like I’m some sleeping baby. Then shouted at more, when I hold my head saying “I’M NOT CRAZY!” Then be put back in a cell, with my head for HOURS, And expected to cope, and see nice things like flowers… Not hear the flying screams that whistle through the air. Nor the chanting names that say no one cares. That make me wish that I could die. Only I know the truth is that I’ll be denied. No matter how many times I try, For me, nothing exists like suicide. Nothing but the words, of screaming cries... And the twisted truth of my broken life. I’m expected to receive those frightening illusions, Of dead people that burn my emotions. … And when I say what I have seen, It’s like I’m a ghost, ‘coz they just look through me. And when I cry, I get ignored. That’s why I don’t talk, about my dreams any more. That why when I break, I bottle it inside, ‘Coz the more I think, the more I wanna commit suicide. … Writing’s the only way to release it away. But I know it’ll all come back, now you’ve read my “Note of Stains!” [comments] => 4 [counter] => 165 [topic] => 36 [informant] => deathdrop [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Suicide )
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