Plea for Clovers

There are voices very loud and clear in my head
Even when I'm just laying on my bed,
they did nothing but encourage me to jump, or hang, or cut
I had stopped making efforts to stop it but,

I just really want to be saved.

Mom told me it will go away.
Days passed and all it did was stay.
Dad told me to get a grip.
But the skin on my wrist was beginning to rip.

My friends assured me that they'll be there,
but the boredom on their faces, I just couldn't bare.
My beloved told me he loved me no matter what.
I did say "loved" and that's just about that.

The people who claimed to care for me told me to rest
But the way they said that made me feel like a pest.
Can't you see? I'm just depressed.
Smiling and laughing is just a dress.

Please listen to me. I just need comfort.
I don't want death to be my last resort.
Hold my hand now and don't let go
Before the thought comes back where I couldn't say no.

Believe me when I say I want to live.
But I just can't help it when people start to leave.
I've really been trying my best.
But I'm really just not like the rest.

Outside, when it rains
I could only feel the pain.
Every step I take,
Is a lifeless move that I make.

Inside my room is nothing but dark.
Just like my heart, where anxiety is always parked.
This is my space where tears and blood drip.
But I've been very careful not to make a sudden leap.

A leap between living and dying.
I just needed an escape from all this crying.
I'm not worried, I've got a lot of choices.
The blade and rope, they both have their voices.

For the very last time, may I ask for a favor?
Could you go out and pick me some clovers?
A few will do, believe my words.
I just need a little bit of luck when I decide to finally leave this world.