Until Our Last Breath

You don't understand,

you never do.

I try to explain,

but I can't get through to you.

I tell you the truth

that I feel so depressed,

but you say I'm okay.

I thought you would know best.

So I sit in my room,

locked in my personal hell,

while you pretend it's all good

and I do as well.

But I'm not okay,

and my friends know that, too,

but you can't seem to see

what is right in front of you.

You say it's a phase,

blame my friends for it all,

but you don't understand

that this is not their fault.

I can't live like this.

I can't live this life,

and as much as I tried,

I can't end it with a knife.

I know you've been through this,

that you ached so much more,

but I can't help but wonder

don't you know me at all!?

I thought you would get it,

why I'm acting this way,

but you don't listen

to what I have to say.

You just ignore me,

pretend I'm alright.

I want this to end.

I feel like I might...

but I'm not as strong

as I'd like to be,

so I'll act all normal

while I wait patiently

for my time to come

and I hope that it's soon.

My friends understand;

I wish you could, too.

But you don't understand,

and I know it's not fair,

but sometimes I feel

like you don't even care.

I feel all alone,

but I know that's not true.

I have all my friends,

but I wish I had you.

I know with my friends

I'll make it through this,

even though it feels like

my life's falling to bits.

You don't understand.

You never do,

but I hope with their help

I can make it through.