I don't care anymore.

I don't care about the emptiness in my chest,
The way my thoughts echo and squirm,
Burrowing into my brain as it rots its potential away in a moist, warm tomb.

I don't care about the bitter pills I swallow,
Or the noose I've found comfort in these past months,
Alone in a cheap duplex in **** All Missouri,
Waiting for salvation or sleep.

I don't care that if I succeed today and die tonight that no one will care to find my body for weeks,
Alone like I have been the rest of my life until neighbors complain of the smell.

I don't care that I'm running out of money,
Or that all my friends and family have removed me from their lives.

I don't care that even as I lay dying, I have never understood why people choose to live.

And I don't care that this ****** teenage poetry is all I will leave behind.