Pressure, by Liz Bug

Pressure

I'm gone.

I feel the pressure,

But I’m not quite sure.

I’ve been going at it for quite some time,

I’ve been trying my hardest to climb.

I’m done with the lies,

The cutting, it horrifies.

I can’t take it anymore,

I’ve been trying to ignore,

I’ve been laughed at,

I’m done with the combat.

Nothing to live for at all,

I’m about to take the fall.

I’m about to begin,

I’m going to let them win.

My life…

I’ve already sharpened my knife.

I see the blood on the floor,

I’ve lost this war.

I’m drifting,

My soul is lifting.

The blood, the life, has been drawn,

But who cares, I’m gone.

I need to be strong, That’s what I’ve learned all alon… I need to gain confidence, Maybe then, would I find guidance… I need to be strong,

I wish I could fly, To get away from here, If only they would try. It’s them that I fear. I used to have hope.