moving on auto-pilot i walk to the bathroom run the bath grab the pills shake off the doubt grab a knife swallow the pills get ready to end your life slit-wrist to elbow-both arms slide to the bottom moving on auto-pilot
i love and hate my body, because even when i am dying inside, my lungs are inhaling and exhaling air, oxygenating my brain, making blood flow, causing my heart to beat, even when im wishing it to stop.
My wrist is bleeding nobody here. Wishing if just one person would care. As the red marks keep bleeding, I wonder if someone knows im in needing Of love.