Suicide was my religion

I woke up every morning and called myself garbage

I went to sleep every night calling myself a coward

 

I was so absolutely furious that I was alive.

And so petrified that I might actually go that far,

should I ever put effort into my own abilities.

Clinging to life by my depression and sorrows.

 

I know no other life.

I know no other reality.

Than one of complete secrecy.

 

There was not another man on this earth who knew

where, who I was.

regardless of how bad it really was,

To be so completely alone in it…

 

God pushed my assumptions with some of the best

friends I could ever ask for growing up.

And yet, I would not budge.

 

My whole life, one big charade,

to make undoubtedly sure,

No one else had to worry about me.

 

A secret identity

A mission to fulfill

A secret I was willing to take to my grave

A secret that was my grave

A life I wanted to end, but not how I wanted it to.

 

Who am I? So ungrateful…