They say understanding comes with time.... but my time ran out

I’m sick of fighting a war with myself,
Of being beaten back by life,
I’m sick of trying to protect myself,
Whilst my hand holds the knife

*taken from my poem: my war*

I don't do it for attention,
I don't do it for the pain,

I do it for frustration,
And the numbness that I gain.

They laugh at me,
Behind my back,
They talk about me,
Until my heart goes black,
Only when the flesh is rotten,
Only when the love has seeped away,
Only when I’ve reached rock bottom,
Only then will they stop play.

I don’t have depression,
Just a cloudy sky,
I don’t have recession,
Just times I’d like to die

The scars are reminders,
Of by-gone times,
The tears, what’s left,
Of forgotten rhymes,

I know sinning is a crime beyond reason,
But I intend to face my treason,
No matter what,
No matter what,
No matter what they do to me,
I will face the treason.

How do you make a sausage roll?

Push it down a hill!

I'm not fat, gravity just has more of an effect on me than other people!

I'm already crippled, how much more pain can my shoulders hold!