Shaky fingers clutch the knife
As I’m about to end my life.
Nobody listens, nobody cares.
What does it matter if I’m not there?
Nothing I do is ever good enough.
My brain is gone, I can’t deal with this stuff.
Try to see through my tears as the blade cuts in.
Warm blood wells up and drips down my skin.
A voice whispers, “No!”, that voice is my own,
“I can’t die like this, abandoned, alone!”
I frantically try to make the bleeding quit.
It won’t stop, my voice whispers, “Well I gues this is it.
I can’t even die right! Why am I so afraid?”
My heart races in terror as the room starts to fade.
The darkness draws closer as death draws me near,
“I don’t want to die anymore!” screams my fear,
“I’ve so much left to do, so much left to say!
Please can’t I have just one more day?”
The pain is all gone now, I’m finally at peace.
In death, at last, I have found release.
There’s no more suffering, no more pain,
And I’ll never have to deal with this shit again.