I lie here in my bed, with a note clutched in my hand. I am feeling so badly now I don't think you understand. I think I'm ready to die, I have nothing left to live for, I just said I loved you and after that you said nothing more. You no longer answered my calls, ignoring all my letters, I feel that its now to late, nothing will make it better. I told you that I loved you, but thats not why I'm hurt... its the fact you said you'd love me too if you thought that it would work. In my note it said, if you read this I am gone, just because you said that I needed to move on. I don't think I can move on, Ive found something else instead, Ill just sit here all alone... alone in this death bed. I closed my eyes and went to sleep, hoping the pills would take effect. I mean what is it I have to lose... I have nothing left. but reluctantly I woke up...this hospital now my home, just a failed attempt at suicide, because I felt I was alone.
Yeah I know... suicide happens often in some of my poems, but this may be a little different...
