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"First Exit"

I've got cold hands and my lips are cracked
I've been here a thousand times before
My thoughts again have turned to ice
This has to be my only flaw

I sit and stare into my heart
Try and understand myself some more
But what two sides can ever love
Whilst fighting in the depths of war?

I try and travel far away
And remind myself to get the train
Because thinking won't get me anywhere
I'm sure there's something more to gain

I want to stare into the sky
And wash away the passion pain
Light my eyes against the night
And let fall upon me silver rain

I want to wash myself to death
Because then I can't be hurt no more
I want to feel the bitter breath
That keeps me locked behind the door

I scrape away my layered skin
As I try to make myself akin
The more I wash the more I find
I'm sensitive to when I'm blind

And I think I've scrubbed my skin too hard
And I think the kids are in the yard
And I don't know when I'll ever see
This isn't who I'm meant to be

I'll wash my face off till I bleed
I'll write another stupid creed
I'm singing that I can't be found
Because I want to let myself be crowned

I think it's time I ended this
I think it's time I punched the kiss
I think it's time I spoke to me
Instead of writing poetry
I think it's time I looked some more
At the mirror on my door
And ask if I really want to stay
Or take the door and leave this way

I've found the exit on the road
The one I walked down so askew
My life's yet to be truly paved
So why do I challenge all I do?

Sure I've had my share of grief
And sure I've kept a steady pulse
But why try and hide this way
Surely there must be someway else?

I fight my pain with a rusty scythe
I try to end life to stay alive
I want to work out what's in my head
And work out why I feel so dead

Perhaps it's time I lived the rhyme
Perhaps for now I'll work out how
Perhaps I'll wake up from this dream
And pack my bags from this machine
Perhaps it's good to see I would
Perhaps the trumpets end in May
Perhaps I could live this through
Instead of think and drink and work
Perhaps I could live life as luck should be
Perhaps I could take blood and let them see
Perhaps I need to keep my mind free
And keep on writing poetry
Because perhaps the only thing that's set me wrong
The ups and downs as I sing my song
Isn't what I try to plea
It's just what I try to be
And my first exit out of here
Is the one we all tend to fear
But I can't escape that way no more
I've got to find the fire door

Me too. Odd that ain't it?

:)

If I cover myself in jelly, my nipples go all erect.

Nah, just realising why I was suicidal. The First Exit is my way of escaping, the way to end the pain.

That was good

You ain't going all suicidal again are you?

An interesting poem.

As a voice of reason i feel i should point out that washing your face off has medical implications.

well that was an experience. good poem

I've got cold hands and my lips are cracked
I've been here a thousand times before
My thoughts again have turned to ice
This has to be my only flaw

I sit and stare into my heart
Try and understand myself some more
But what two sides can ever love
Whilst fighting in the depths of war?

I try and travel far away
And remind myself to get the train
Because thinking won't get me anywhere
I'm sure there's something more to gain

I want to stare into the sky
And wash away the passion pain
Light my eyes against the night
And let fall upon me silver rain

I want to wash myself to death
Because then I can't be hurt no more
I want to feel the bitter breath
That keeps me locked behind the door

I scrape away my layered skin
As I try to make myself akin
The more I wash the more I find
I'm sensitive to when I'm blind

And I think I've scrubbed my skin too hard
And I think the kids are in the yard
And I don't know when I'll ever see
This isn't who I'm meant to be

I'll wash my face off till I bleed
I'll write another stupid creed
I'm singing that I can't be found
Because I want to let myself be crowned

I think it's time I ended this
I think it's time I punched the kiss
I think it's time I spoke to me
Instead of writing poetry
I think it's time I looked some more
At the mirror on my door
And ask if I really want to stay
Or take the door and leave this way

I've found the exit on the road
The one I walked down so askew
My life's yet to be truly paved
So why do I challenge all I do?

Sure I've had my share of grief
And sure I've kept a steady pulse
But why try and hide this way
Surely there must be someway else?

I fight my pain with a rusty scythe
I try to end life to stay alive
I want to work out what's in my head
And work out why I feel so dead

Perhaps it's time I lived the rhyme
Perhaps for now I'll work out how
Perhaps I'll wake up from this dream
And pack my bags from this machine
Perhaps it's good to see I would
Perhaps the trumpets end in May
Perhaps I could live this through
Instead of think and drink and work
Perhaps I could live life as luck should be
Perhaps I could take blood and let them see
Perhaps I need to keep my mind free
And keep on writing poetry
Because perhaps the only thing that's set me wrong
The ups and downs as I sing my song
Isn't what I try to plea
It's just what I try to be
And my first exit out of here
Is the one we all tend to fear
But I can't escape that way no more
I've got to find the fire door