Sweet suicide

This dried out pen
and this wet paper
are both growing thin;
the light in my eyes dimmed

the blood pooling on the floor
spreads and repaints
even this bedroom door.
how could there be much more?

I'm waiting for it to end
when suddenly I think:
the rules finally bend,
I never want to mend

I'm broken, just as I want
no more fake smiles
no soul left to haunt
no heart left to taunt.

now at the top,
finally in charge,
the blood just won't stop
my heart just won't bop

my suffering is over
i have found peace