It's Nothing [BEING EDITED]

Blood-thirsty Demons

I sit alone in the dark.
Nobody sees me.

If I do this there will be
flowers above my head.

My eyes have lost all light,
and are forever closed.

In this room
I've drowned too many times.

I remember oceans of water under my eyes.
My satin sheets are now wrinkled and stained.

I died every night.

No one sees the pain murdering me or
the wounds that reach 6 inches deep.

Blood-thirsty demons and
a bleeding wrist.

Scary dreams and
screaming into the darkness.

I live a broken life.
I'm all alone.

No one's around.

I could do it now,
and no one would know.

And why would they?
Why would they care?

It's not like they need me.

They'll do fine without me.
Everyone will be better.

The world would have one less burden,
one less worry.

"It's fine!"
Don't try to save me.

I'm gone forever.
There's no going back.

Some kid will be better off without me.
Some guy will have a better girl.

I'm not worth tears.
I'm only worth the thoughts
of how I hated myself,
how I was never good enough.

It's amazing really.
The way a knife or rope,
Or metal or a pen,
could take someone so incapable
and such a burden
and turn them happy!

One knife can slit the throat.
One rope can tighten around the neck.
One metal rod can break the bones.
One pen to swallow the ink.

To bleed to death,
To suffocate,
To be incapable to life,
To be poisoned.

Why can't I die?
It's so simple.
But why can't I?

I seem unable.

This is what I mean!
I'm so incapable
I can't even die.

What's the point?

Just shoot me!
Kill me!

Take away all of the pain.

It's killing me.
Do it,
please.

I will love you from my grave,
But what's the point?

We all die;
Why don't we all die
hand in hand?

We are all dead.
Dead inside.