It begins in quiet pain — a whisper in place of screams,
not because the world is silent,
but because there's nothing left worth hearing.
The emptiness feels like it has shape now,
like silence that bites when no one watches.

Still, the world expects a smile.
You sit there, pretending you're whole,
while your own voice sinks under the weight of
everything that used to matter.

Pull it, pull it, just ******* do it.
Because if not now, you'll ******* lose it.
As I sit..with my knees to my chest,
I slide the gun up my thigh to my breast, and then up from my throat to my chin,
my heart beats..I can't help but listen,
and I put it in my mouth,
wishing for energy to shout,
but I take a breath
and then I take it out,
glide it across my cheek,
and up to my temple.
Call me a freak.
Call me mental.
Just end it all, right here, right now.
And listen close 'cause this will be your last sound.
Just ******* do it, this life ain't worth livin,
So let's get to it, call it My Final Decision.
I close my eyes and my face tightens,
Sorry to who will find me, I didn't mean to frighten.
Just ******* do it.
I pull the trigger
Get some chalk and draw my beautiful figure.