sitting in a corner
contemplating death
wishing it'd come sooner
rather than later

lying on the floor
crying more and more
wishing i could be happy
knowing i'm just me

huddled in a ball
pity's a hurtful thing
wishing someone'd be there
like a mom's suppose to be

being on a couch
realizing you can't go on
trying to figure out
how to make it end.