I
Want
To
Die.
No, okay, no- I don't really.
Too many count on me.
I'd miss out on too much.
I'd be the world's biggest hypocrite.
For a moment though tonight those words
Played through my head
In a very real way.
Knife to skin,
I've heard
Seems to be a popular
Choice.
Even if I wanted to end it all,
Really
Truly,
Which again I swear I don't,
I'm too chicken.
I didn't try to
Break the skin.
[Wondered what you felt
When you've felt so damn low.
I'm sorry, Sherlock.]
Didn't push too hard,
Only felt the taut pressure
of the cold metal
against my arm.
I don't get it- the draw.
This night still sucks,
My heart still aches,
My arm is marked and red
[not cut],
It hurts.
But, no,
I
Don't
Want
To
Die.
-MS
