You never thought I would

I'm sick of waking,
someday I'm going to stop it.
Tired of the suffering,
and all the pain,
so I take out my razor,
let my feelings escape,
but doesn't last long,
the razors just a bait.
so I take out my lighter,
and press it to my skin,
I said that I wouldn't,
but I finally gave in.
I count to three,
then take it off,
this lighter is too good to me.
my skin now red,
yet it still is not enough.
I hold it down once again,
this unquenchable desire.
why do I feel the need,
to hurt myself with fire?
My skin turned white,
I give up the fight.
this pain can last no longer.
as I fall down,
I look around,
my suicide letters beside me,
I am sorry to all
but this has been my last fall,
I can't hold myself up any longer.