I sit here by myself, thinking of suicide

I look at a knife, want to commit suicide

I look at a photo, hating my life

telling myself, suicide stops the pain

I turn the lights off, alone in the dark

reaching for the knife, that's going to take the pain away

I think of certain people, they don't care

for the first time, I think of myself

I dig the knife, into part of my skin

letting all of my blood, pour out

I'm not dying quick enough, so another cut I make

then a final cut on my neck, and a stab in my heart