Here I sit upon my bed.
Thoughts of death run through my head.
I think about the times you made me cry.
So now I think of my willingness to die.
I'm so shattered that I can not feel.
So freakin shattered. So here's the deal.
I slit my wrists with the knife.
I sit here and take my own life.
You won't care. Not at all.
And your not here to watch me fall.
I think that living would only cause pain.
I've realized there's nothing to gain.
So as I grap that knife so sharp.
As feel the beatings of my heart.
I think of you and how you left.
This only encourages me more.
Life with me, was such a bore.
So now I'm moving on from you.
From all the things we had.
I bet you could of ever guessed.
That my life was this bad.
Now the slits are really big.
The blood just keeps on flowing.
I do all this knowing, that I will soon be dead.
So now I make my finale slit, upon my pale thin wrists.
And I think of the days that I will miss.
Because I'm doing this.
I take a finale look,
Around this home called hell.
So now I'm just laying here.
Scared, alone, dead.
