The End

I'm spitting blood
up from my mouth...
Gasping for just one decent breath...

I can hear
the devil whispering
continuously in my head...

"Don't worry.
.Soon it will be over...
Soon you'll be dead."

No more tears will I cry,
I just need to edge
the bloody knife in a little deeper...

The blood is like a waterfall,
or one hundred little puddles...

I wish I had my Teddy bear, or something I could cuddle...

I'm sick of being hated... Maybe they'll like me better dead...

I have now chosen
my forever fait..

Maybe there calling me,
Right now,
Maybe I'm already,
Late...

This is for all the bullies who called me ugly...

Who bugged me until I went insane...

But for now I'm just occupied sitting here, watching my blood drain...