I Hate

pricking my skin with the tip of a knife
so i can feel the warmth of blood spilled from a fresh wound
this doesnt ease my pain
only post-pones it
taking me away to another place
another time
nothing more to worry about other than the stitches i may need

sober now
pain still real
i close my eyes and try to escape
opening them only to see nothing has changed
im still alone

sitting by myself my mind wonders
could things of been different if i chose another path?
maybe if i had done one less line, taken one less hit
slammed one less rig, ate one less pill, drank one less drink
would i still be where im at?

im not complaining
im just saying
just thinking about what could have been, maybe should have been

maybe i ruined it
maybe i ruined the greatness i could of become?
or maybe this is exactly where im supposed to be
who knows, no one can say for sure

all i do know is that i hate where im at
i hate myself
i hate the feelings i wake and sleep with embedded in the back of my head
i hate that i have no one to confide in
i hate that no one loves me
i hate that im alone in the big picture of life
i hate that i have to sit here by myself and type this shit out because i have no one to listen to me
i hate that im bleeding
i hate that i cant feel it
i hate that i hurt every day
i hate that i hurt every night
i hate the people that will read this and think im a big pussy
i hate that i cant bash those people and make them feel for one second the feelings that burn inside of me every waking minute

i hate that i have nothing else to say