Suicidal Thoughts

It's 3:12 AM and I can't sleep
Again
I don't know

I don't do happy, only distracted
And lately even that has been feeling much less attractive
Compiler blank, rhyme book empty, I'm out of practice
Now I skip the mattress and crash on the couch trashed
Like I'm trapped. I'm morphing. To trigger the same endorphins
I'm guzzling by the quart all these foreign aids, watching porn
Three in the morning 'til the coroner rolls my corpse in
The torment? It's boring. Rehashing the same performance
I need some oxygen, but I take a shot of gin
I'll never stop the spin until I could stop tossing lots of them back
I feel the impact, feel the way my ribs crack
When the demons push between the cage and break the skin like gift wrap
They're parasitic so I sleep with the garish image
Of a glinting kitchen knife, jabbing me through the larynx with it
Blowing out my brains from behind, saying goodbye
Watching the angels just fly, flame in their eyes
But since there'e no other side, I might as well
Stay and go for the ride, reproachful and hopeless
Take a deep breath. Open my eyes
Let the motion subside
This apartment is so small that it's choking me
Don't feel like I'm supposed to be broken, but it's how I know to be
Self-loathing openly; self-destructive in private
Trying to push to the side all these violent thoughts in my mind and
It's a good thing that no god ever existed
'cos this is the kind of night that I would have to pay him a visit
But I'm not ready to cross the schism, not that twisted
But even the proposition seems and enticing decision
And I can't wait. Because the day will come when I finally say, "Enough"
And so much has been stripped away that I'll never make it up
I fantasize about the ways that they will find me laid
With a new face that's oddly-shaped and exit wound body paint
I see my brains raining confetti out the front of my face
Like pinata candy. My thoughts are such treats
Let me give you a piece of my mind
Sometimes I
Just feel like I've been dropped off
In some other guy's body
And he's got this job
And all these friends
And these fans and these shows
And I don't know what to do
It doesn't make any sense
So I just—I don't know—
I keep going to his job
And I keep talking to his friends
And I keep putting on his shows
And everybody just—I don't know—
They just keep clapping
They keep applauding me
Like I'm that guy
I just want to make them stop it
Just stop
No. Stop
Stop!
Sto—