My knife is there sunshine

In this classroom I look.
Why is my doom someone else’s salvation?
How do they glide along, while I sit in damnation?
Will this slide past her glance? The temptation is there and I take it.
I can’t hide behind others. I have a chance for redemption. I don’t take it.
I decide that this is better to let go. My romance with success becomes a knife.

A knife lodged inside my mind. Why is this my knife and others sunshine?
The life I dodged, the happy one. I hate this life I lead, I’m defiantly not fine.
Like a wife it wont leave till death parts us. I desperately need to get this out.

How do you pull a mental knife out?
The doctor showed me his credential.
Yet he could not fix my temperamental feelings.
I know you don’t mix metal with microwaves.

Like me the combination blew up and no one could fix it.
The only tradition I have is crying myself to sleep.
Some days my mediation leads somewhere.
And all I know is this will never get better, no one could fix it.

I thought I saw a broken person in my room.
I had really forgotten that the mirror was hung up.
Looking at myself; why am I soakin’ with despair?

My mediation never found out.
All that ill mention is, it will only be fixed after death.
Like marriage; and since its like it I will stay with it, till death.