I slit my wrist,
because of bliss,
and blood came pouring out,
but I didn't even shout,
because of the pain,
with my tears like rain,
mixed with the blood,
that over my wrist had flood,
to make a lighter red,
that starting to pour on my bed,
and there it mixes with blue,
and now there's purple too,
a swirl of blood on my floor,
and I knock my head on the door,
and fall asleep forever,
to be woken up never.
I held in my hand,
a letter held together with a band,
why I had died,
and I hadn't lied,
the letter said,
'I was better off dead,
so don't cry over me,
I needed to be free,
my soul was trapped inside,
and everyone around lied,
and I need to slit,
just a little bit,
and take my final last breath,
while I attempt my death,
my life isn't over yet,
I'll make you that bet,
I still need to learn,
without a burn,
so I'll be born again,
but I don't know when,
so I say goodbye,
as I lie here and die.'
