You can't bring back lost love.
You can't help the lost.
You can't bring back the gone.
You can't be happy with no feelings.
You can't be mad with numbness.
You can't yell with no voice.
You can't eat with no appetite
You can't get better with the whispers.
Each day they yell.
All they do is fill my life with hell.
I sit there with a feeling of nothing but sorrow.
I question my existence.
Then Melancholy I slit my wrist open.
With peace I join the laughing dead.