• My skin is turning pale.
    My eyes are turning yellow.
    The friends I thought I had have left.
    And now I'm left in sorrow.

    Please don't let me go.
    I'm stuck here all alone.
    The hope I had, I can no longer feel.
    This cold is the only thing left that's real.

    Bruised purple by shackles on my ankles.
    Scarred by slits on my wrists.
    Run off makeup down my cheeks.
    I try to write, but I'm so weak.

    "I'm sorry for all the pain I caused,
    I'm sorry that I could not go on.
    Hospital machines are no way to survive.
    Counting down days is no way to live life.

    It's just like in my dreams,
    All around me, shouts and screams.
    Up above me, a light so bright.
    Down below, pain and freight.

    I cannot write much longer.
    I wish I could have been stronger.
    I wish I could have fought,
    Cancer, to which I have been brought."

    With as little as the flick of my hand,
    My blood splatters across the land.
    Into the darkness, I must go.
    Maybe now I'll find peace, I hope..