Playing With Death

Everyone is grateful
While I'm still hateful.
Thoughts running through my mind
About breaking their spines.
I reach for the blade
Playing my life like it is spades.
I hear the skin tear
As I gasp for air.
My crimson blood on the floor
Starts for the bathroom door.
Wipe the blood up,
So I don't have to tell them "Shut Up"!
Go to the closet.
Get the gun
And then run.
Put it to my head
And "BANG" I'm dead.