Pain

"Thank God I hate pain."

I said to my mother the day I got close.

"Thank God I'm smart."

I say to my parents when it gets really hard.

"Thank God I have someone."

I say to the one friend who will listen.

But whatthey don't know is that,

In the dark recesses of my mind,

I still romanticize death.

The cold blade and the ending darkness.

I still wonder what its cold embrace would feel like.

What a hug from the Reaper himself would be like.

And the words from God himself,

What would they truly sound like?

Sometimes I wonder if I should do it,

But I don't do it.

I don't because I'm smart, I have someone, because I hate pain.

But, if it weren't for the pain,

I wouldn't be in this position.

Why is life so obsessed with irony?