I look at myself in the mirror.
How I hate what I've become.
I punch the mirror, fragments fly everywhere.
I look at the ground, a tear falls; I know what must be done.

I lock my door, I turn my stereo all the way up.
Letter in my hand, I begin to cut.
The blood is so fast to fall, how it feels so good.
I close my eyes, I smile; my life is close to a shut

I slice up my veins; I slice all around.
The more blood the better, my life isn't worth it.
I hate myself, how usless I am.
I will finally prove that no one gives a shit.

Hours later my body will be found.
No one will weep, no one will care.
I am rushed to the ER, they are too late.
My body pale, drained of blood, my cuts are bare.

My romantic suicide is complete.
They will now know what I mean to end my life.
My note said, "I love you, this will prove it."
I am gone, I no longer live this life.