Rants about Depression,suicide,selfharm and anxiety and they all kill

The art of dying

He whispered my name to me as I laid on the table
Give me back my oxygen mask
Cause I do t want to feel what makes me so unstable
I don't want to feel the walls of my heart collapse
So put me under
I rather die on this table
So give me back my oxygen mask
Put me to sleep
I'd rather not face what makes me,but I'd sooner die then feel the walls if my heart collapse
I feel the stitches of my soul come undone
As I stand there unable to move
Sometimes I wonder if I'm a ghost wear skin I never chose
I listen as the devil spoke
He tempted my with a beautiful rose
So grab your black umbrella and head out to the grave yard
Where you'll find the tree which I tied this rope
Nothing's for certain that's the only thing I know but I'm certain that it's time for me to go
It's nothing personal but it hurts to know......that ill be all alone...