I don't know what to call this poem

Cross my heart and hope to die,
but if I do, you know why.
Cut my wrists and watch my cry,
let me live this lie.

Before I felt pain,
and before I went insane,
I used to be happy inside.
But now there's only a memory of that happy side,
its the frozen image of a smile on my face,
cut at the sides and glued into place.

I look up at the stars at night,
I watch them cry,
I watch them bleed,
I watch them want,
I watch them need.
Then I remember that it wasn't the stars that I was seeing.
It was the broken parts of my past stinging.

Why is it as if the whole world lives,
just to make me cry.
Why is it as if the whole world breathes,
just to watch me want to die?

But then I think,
there's something out there,
more special than me,
something in need.
Something for which,
I would cry for I'd bleed.