If It Goes Up, Must Come Down. [Part 1]

I wanna end me.

I'm in the bathroom with a knife in my hand,

Pointing at my bare chest and shaking,

Playing "Pity Party" while I cry with its sound,

Inside myself, I'm laughing.

...

Thinking about what I would do if I didn't end me,

What would I do if my story didn't end now?

Feeling how it dies while I feel my eyes blindfolded with a pink bandage bandaging me,

Wow, how can I be so stupid and low?

...

In my head I say to myself,

"how can you be so cowardly, you're not even capable of inserting that piece of metal into your chest."

But at the same time thinking about whether I will really die by sticking it in,

The cost of my death will be in vain, but my life and cost is equally in vain.

...

The letter is behind the bathroom door,

With the names of people I once loved written on it,

It is a short letter, since I have no interest in saying much about why I committed this "horror",

This little crime scene is a little funky, I know.

...

I thought, later I'll regret writing those names,

But I won't be alive to hate them with my rhymes,

Nonetheless,

I failed my classes.

...

I wasn't able to do it,

I hated those on that day I loved them,

My life got worse from that day, as I expected, far away,

And I didn't have a reason to continue, but I don't care anymore, although the poem has not stopped.

...

Just keep dying, but slower now,

...

While
I'm
sleeping
I
keep
dreaming
It.