Stopping Before Dying

True, about myself.

I want to make these crimson tears for i have nothing left to cry,
I want to cut and i want to carve until my precious blood runs dry,

I've never cut myself too badly before,
But i keep wanting more and more,

I'll break my mirror, I'll smash it up,
I won't need to see my face, when i have cut,

Maybe i will steal a blade, for mine is no longer sharp enough,
So i can cut my skin once more with a blade's fatal touch,

Maybe i will steal something sharp,
Something that would make the pain, quick and hard,

Maybe ill use the necklace round my neck,
To hang myself or choke to death,

Maybe it could be a car to do it,
They won't see me coming and won't see me 'trip',

Maybe i should jump to end this pain,
I know of a bridge, I'm going insane,

These thoughts should not be swirling round in my head,
Thoughts of me dying, images of me dead,

I have to try, i can't stay like this,
Waiting and waiting for deaths final kiss,

Oh god, why am i gasping for air,
The hands pulling at my necklace, since when were they there?

Oh no, they're my hands and me they're trying to choke,
There is no way this is some kind of sick joke,

Release them, leave me free to breathe,
Why won't i let myself stop trying to leave,

I gasp and now i can feel less tension,
The shocked look on my face, that without a mention,

Belongs to someone guilty of trying,
And in the end, stopping before dying.

*All votes and comments greatly appreciated as always.*