I promise you I don't want to **** myself
This isn't a letter saying goodbye
Not a poem blaming you for not seeing this coming
But sometimes
When I'm all alone
I sit in the bath just a little bit longer,
hoping and hoping I drift off to sleep
Or smoke three cigarettes
one after the other after the other
and hope my lungs get so filled with tar that I
stop breathing
Or stand dangerously close to the edge of a building
and close my eyes hoping the wind might *******
just hard enough to fall

It's easy to imagine
I know what everyone would say
How some people would cry
And some would secretly be glad
Some would feel guilt
Others sorrow
And in about a week it wouldn't matter

But I want to matter
Whether it be to just my mom
Or the man I helped cross the street
I want to matter

And so I tuck those thoughts deeper in the closet
And I step away from sharp objects and steep edges
And I sit and write poetry
Poetry will be the death of us all
Anyway

some people are like wounded animals
completely damaged
may God know why

and you shouldn't let them suffer
these wounded animals
no.. they should die

When their was no reason to live.
Life was useless, better to give.

You were frustrated and pumped.
From top of roof you jumped.

It was just a matter of second
yet enough to live whole life in this errand.

Ups and downs of life passed through your eyes.
You wished to give your life another try.

But now it was too late.
Worldly life had already closed its gate.

Your delicate body crashed into the ground.
It all ended with a dull and feeble sound.

How dare you think you have the power to take your own life.
You are loved,
you are worth it.

When the moon howls
Thats when she talks
Loud, so loud
I can not think

All I do is
Listen
Listen
and Listen

Nothing more but
Follow her lead

Out of bed
On my feet
"Get the rope
and follow me"

I grab the
Knife
She gets
the blade

I slowly
Drift to my
Last breath

My final smile
Happened

Underneath the
Blood moon