I find myself in a puddle of blood, knowing it was an illusion.

As I drop lifeless to the floor.

Follow my footprints of blood: my steps of blood.

Leave everything behind you and step into my reality.

Where no happiness is found.

Feel the wind torment your skin.

Feel the sun burn your skin and turn to stone.

Feel my razor blade tongue and cut yourself deep and desirably.

Let the blood run in an overflowing stream and submit to my suicide and yours.

Nothing but death in this life is certain.

You may be in some state of happiness but none of this will stay real.

You are trapped in a spider's web.

You might as well just kill yourself.