Is the blade against my skin.
Is what I get from it.
Is what my mind is doing.
The pain and hopelessness away.
From what life puts me through.
It would all go away.
That I can go on with life.
Is what I will be doing if life continues like this.
For a way to escape the fear of what people think of me.
Useless and unwanted.
In my own game of life.
Is what people call me.
I cut with the blade.
This might be the way I have to go.
Of what has happened to my life.
Is what has become of it.
That it is true.
And drugs have become my best friends.
And sharp objects have helped me through life.
I know people will not care that I’m gone.
Is probably what they will be doing.
For death to come faster.
My life flash before me.
Is all I can see now.
No color what so ever.
It’s so close I can almost touch it.