Beautiful Dead

I can see it in your eyes
of gleaming hope and solitude
as you watch the news
as death reads
the names of the dead
you long to be one
of pale less skin
and red ruby lips

You smile with passion at the cuts
beginning on your arms
and trailing around your tainted brain
you will succeed in killing yourself
one day
the blood down your arm
the knife in your hands

The rope is rough and course
around your neck kick away the chair
and listen to the sound of dying
it takes a little while
for your lungs to collapse
you smile at your death
tears down your face
onto your tounge

They will find you tomorrow
all bloated and decayed
your not pretty at all