(no subject)
sometimes i wish you could understand me,
but you can;t cuz your not in my shoes.
all those things you've said to me,
and the way you've made me feel.
how about you fuckin kill my last day of happiness,
or i just overdose like i have before.
scare the shit out of you like once did,
but when you saw me in the hospital you didn't bother talking to me.
you just left without asking why i did it,
and what drove me to it.
i can certainly answer that easily,
you had to do with it.
all this stress that is contained in my head,
has to do with you and all the bad memories you were in my past.
i wanna knock you out so badly,
that you couldn't possibly stand up.
i am grateful for what you've given and taught me,
i just don't know if i can ever be something you can be proud of.
sorry i am not a fuckin math genius,
or someone who is so called perfect like you call yourself sometimes.
i want to overdose again before 2005,
but when i went to Brooks today and saw tylenol,
something came over me and told me not to buy it.
I wanted to so badly overdose and be found in my car,
with these tylenol pills that can be deadly.
See you in tears as you see me lying dead,
with my eyes open staring at you.
like its trying to tell you something,
but you can't identify it over this loss of death.
i know i am a failure and you don't want that,
you just want a bright successful son.
as much as you will deny this,
you just want me to be like Dan.
A son like that who is successful,
who knows how to deal with problems.
i hate being compared to him,
though you will never change.
i've tried making you happy and proud of me,
though i am just not worht it.
not even worth living if i can't make you fuckin happy,
shoot me down like you tend to do with misused words.
just grad the rifle that lays in the basement,
aim, shoot and fire at me so i can finally die right.
take the chance of this because if you don't,
then you will see your failured son dead with overdose of pills.
he will be lying in the hospital like he once did,
but this time he will die and never wake up to see the day.
sorry that i can;t be what you want me to be,
its just hard to pleasing you when i am down.
being in this damned house all the fuckin time,
just gets me depressed,mad,angry, or wanting to kill or break something.
if i could kill you without feeling guilt,
you would be down on the floor bleeding.
you try to say forgive me son,
as i kill myself as well.
last words won't be found of those that were spoken,
because i am now dead and those words were just imaginary.
R.I.P.
David Corbera
Jan 8, 1986- Jan 3, 2005
will be forgotten forever and ever
hope you have found peace at last my dear friend
but you can;t cuz your not in my shoes.
all those things you've said to me,
and the way you've made me feel.
how about you fuckin kill my last day of happiness,
or i just overdose like i have before.
scare the shit out of you like once did,
but when you saw me in the hospital you didn't bother talking to me.
you just left without asking why i did it,
and what drove me to it.
i can certainly answer that easily,
you had to do with it.
all this stress that is contained in my head,
has to do with you and all the bad memories you were in my past.
i wanna knock you out so badly,
that you couldn't possibly stand up.
i am grateful for what you've given and taught me,
i just don't know if i can ever be something you can be proud of.
sorry i am not a fuckin math genius,
or someone who is so called perfect like you call yourself sometimes.
i want to overdose again before 2005,
but when i went to Brooks today and saw tylenol,
something came over me and told me not to buy it.
I wanted to so badly overdose and be found in my car,
with these tylenol pills that can be deadly.
See you in tears as you see me lying dead,
with my eyes open staring at you.
like its trying to tell you something,
but you can't identify it over this loss of death.
i know i am a failure and you don't want that,
you just want a bright successful son.
as much as you will deny this,
you just want me to be like Dan.
A son like that who is successful,
who knows how to deal with problems.
i hate being compared to him,
though you will never change.
i've tried making you happy and proud of me,
though i am just not worht it.
not even worth living if i can't make you fuckin happy,
shoot me down like you tend to do with misused words.
just grad the rifle that lays in the basement,
aim, shoot and fire at me so i can finally die right.
take the chance of this because if you don't,
then you will see your failured son dead with overdose of pills.
he will be lying in the hospital like he once did,
but this time he will die and never wake up to see the day.
sorry that i can;t be what you want me to be,
its just hard to pleasing you when i am down.
being in this damned house all the fuckin time,
just gets me depressed,mad,angry, or wanting to kill or break something.
if i could kill you without feeling guilt,
you would be down on the floor bleeding.
you try to say forgive me son,
as i kill myself as well.
last words won't be found of those that were spoken,
because i am now dead and those words were just imaginary.
R.I.P.
David Corbera
Jan 8, 1986- Jan 3, 2005
will be forgotten forever and ever
hope you have found peace at last my dear friend