My Suicide

I look down at the knife in my hand,
It looks so sharp, sharp enough to draw the blood I need drawn.
But I can't bring myself,
To pull it across my skin.
I was always queasy at the sight of blood,
Could never handle it.
Instead I picked up my dad's gun,
And put the knife down.
Pointing the gun to my heart,
My hand began to shake.
I worried I'd leave a mess for my parents to clean,
And I put the gun aside.
Turning to the rope I had gotten out of the basement,
I made a noose.
But immediately set it down again,
I didn't want my brothers and sisters to see me like that.
So I turned to the bottle of pills,
That I pulled out of my parents bathroom.
Deciding those were the way to go,
I took a hand full of them.
And laid on my bed.
As I waited for the pills to kill me slowly,
I thought back to when I wouldn't have done this.
Back to the person who had meant the world to me,
To the person who had broken my heart and ripped out my soul.
He hadn't meant to,
He had thought he would love me for the rest of our lives.
But things don't always work out like we want,
So I lay there on the bed with pain rushing through me.
My whole world was gone,
The one I lived for left me.
Without him I can't live,
And as I took my last breath,
I whispered,
"I love you, now and forever."