Bomb in a Birdcage
It's weird. I've thought about suicide before but never
like this. Never so completely and thoroughly. I feel so
calm about it where before I was so nervous and scared.
Before I wanted to end it with a few quick slices of a
blade. Now, I'm waiting to find the pillls strong enough.
I've thought about what I would write in a will. I've
thought about who would come to my funeral. Who would cry?
Who would think they could've stopped me when they so
obviously couldn't have done anything? How many parents
would hang over their kids because they don't want their
kids to die too? Who would care? Who would still love me?
The sad thing is, the one person who could actually do
something to keep me alive doesn't care...He hates me. He
was my lifeline. The only reson I'm alive today. Now he's
gone and I'm tired oftrying to hang onto life by myself.
I'm not used to it and its way too hard. I'm tired of
hurting ppl. I'm tired of doing everything wrong. I'm
tired of having my heart broken. I'm tired of living...and
no one cares...