Dark, cramped, and alone  

So close, yet so far from home  

A single door, kept shut  

To keep itself from learning anymore 

Struggling to keep my sanity  

In a place isolated from humanity  

Adding to the collection, another paper cut  

From a letter that cuts further than skin deep  

That's slightly incoherent due to my lack of sleep  

I'm trying to shake my feelings loose  

But it only disturbs that reclusive noose  

That resides in the forgotten trenches of my mind  

He reminds me that there is always a way out  

Of my hatred, sadness, pain, and self-doubt  

If you're reading this, I gave in   

Apparently my resolve was paper-thin  

The blood from the fresh paper cut in my skin  

Signing my name on this letter of sin  

But if, somehow, I win  

You'll find this letter in the trash bin