Punishment

About what goes on in my head and why I do the things I do.

Death once a flickering nuisance,
now feels like a relief,
from too many years of sorrow
and my fair share of grief.

As I look at myself
I see nothing to be proud of,
I see a fat, lazy woman
who knows not what she has done.

I hear whispers from a man,
whom I am told does not exist,
Some may say he is an angel,
I know he does at least.

He tells me of all the evils that I have done
and why I must be punished,
by a god I don't believe in,
for crimes I don't remember.

The will to live eludes me
but I must receive my punishment
as there are those who would mourn me,
and, I am told, that would anger god.

And though I hear accusations
which are only in my head
the medication wont stop them
they stop only when I bleed

Some times I dream of not waking up
so far it hasn't worked.
I often dream of living free
Away from this pain and hurt.

And so I carry on
weary of this life
where death may come tomorrow,
or in many years to come

Until then I find peace
only in my blood.