I keep writing suicide notes in my head

never actually put them on paper, no, too real

I went for a drive and stopped on the railroad tracks...a train never came

Why? Why when I offer so willingly to be one of the 500 a year to be taken by railroad, nobody's there to listen

If I were in a book I'd be a perfect candidate to be taken out by heart disease, but instead my circulatory system couldn't be less flawed, and I'm not in a book.
This scene doesn't have background music
There's just a dog making noise in his kennel

This moment doesn't matter. Nobody's here to see it.

This moment, that is the utter choice in existence of myself, does not matter.

Because nobody cares to see it.