not so bad poetry

comfort

I almost killed myself.
I was thinking
and I figured
if I just kill myself, then nothing bad can happen.
then I'll be okay.
and people won't have to deal with me anymore.
I got nauseous at the thought of the smell.
but there was a comfort in the irony smell and the red stains on my grey carpet.
I thought about my pink bedding covered with red spots and my eyes drifting to sleep
and I thought, that sounds nice.
and for a second i felt the urge to find my kit, and do it.