After Death

This Is The Truth

It's 2am,

And I want to kill myself.

For some reason,

It seems like the time

Makes it so much more 

Tragic. 

But I feel this way

All 

The fucking

Time.

The fact that

It's 2am

Shouldn't make it

Any more fucking

Romantic 

Than it already

Isn't. 

Depression 

Isn't this beautiful

Sadness, or a 

Beautiful story

Or a beautiful 

Anything. If

You believe that,

Then you'll end 

Up praying beside 

A beautiful gravestone

And trying to think of

Only beautiful memories

Instead of the realistic ones

Of the hanging body that you

Found, the scarlet blood 

Splattered across the walls,

The suicide note still wet 

With tears. Nothing about

This is fucking beautiful.

So why the fuck does the 

Fact that it's 2am make you

Think it is?