It used to be
My limit was whenever
I felt the need to hurt,
The need to feel pain
Not from within,
The need to make blood
Flow down from my skin.
That's when I would call
My friends,
Text them,
Ask for help.

No longer.

Now my limit
Is whenever I want to die,
When I start writing notes,
That's when I grab my phone
And start calling through
The contacts list,
The list of sorrow,
Of the few people left
I can trust,
The ones who won't freak out,
The ones I know
Will take care of me
When I cannot.

But if
That shift
Only took a couple months,
How long will it be
Until it shifts
Again?

How long
Until I have no limit?
How long
Until I try to deal
With those thoughts
On my own as well?
How long
Until I decide not
Not to bother them with
Every little time I feel like
Killing myself?
How long
Will it be until that day?
And what happens
When that day comes?
Will it all end?
Much as I so often want
For that to happen,
I am afraid
That I will make it happen.
I do not want that,
I don't right now.
But soon,
Or at least not too far away,
I will.
And then it will be
Goodnight.