Saturday, January 1, 2011

I’ll be here, but I’ll be gone

I’ll be here, but I’ll be gone
If I’m gona be honest I won’t be here for too long
Be planning this every night, ready to see the light
Don’t know about you but I hate my life,
maybe I need to wake up with a knife in my skin with a
Wake up call that life is too short, 
can’t cut sideways but up ways so I can cut the cord

But it was you who made me feel,
I was ignored or maybe I’m just fucking bored
Maybe I just wish I was adored.
I can spend hours looking in a mirror or a wall
Looking through and imagining myself fall
Or how my death letter would go down

Telling my mum life wasn’t for me and that her mission to bring happiness failed to settle with me
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll exactly live life like my folks hating myself and others.
Don’t get me wrong I’ve tried,
but why should I keep giving why should I keep living.
None of you fuckers gave me love

And you can see I never put up a fuss, but if the next time you see me and I be dust.
so dad why didn’t you ever call,
why didn’t you ever write a letter and, 
why when I took the effort into meeting you,
 why couldn’t you bring the courage and pretend  that you loved me.
Sometimes I feel I’m getting punished of your fucking misery, 
you never contacted me so why should I give you the content of any money.
Bright side we have a lot in common money is our love and,
we waste it on shit that takes us out of this world.  
We both love the natural stuff.
One thing I can never understand but it makes me so mad,
you lost a father how can you make me feel the pain that you feel now.

You know I try to be strong but I feel weaker than ever and,
I wish I had some sort of obsession but I lost love of everything.
So don’t mind me if I’m anti social 
I can’t bring myself to talk about mascara for the next fucking 20 minutes
Because I can’t help to see the world in a deeper level,
don’t get me wrong I hate that I do
And that’s why you have to understand, if you saw it in my eyes all the shit I’ve been trough.
Sometimes I feel paranoia has hit me well, I keep seeing some black smoke in the air
I scream but I just look like I’m crazy or in the worst pain, 
Angel of death don’t you just love me take my soul ask the questions you’ve been questioning yourself.
Strangle me so I can finally feel real.

Idil Mahamed
Copyright © 2010

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