The Last Poem

If I had the money, I'd buy a gun and blow my brains out.

If I wasn't afraid of immense pain upon landing, I'd climb the highest building and throw myself off.

If I wasn't afraid of the cold, steel pain, I'd take my pocket knife and cut my wrists.

If I wasn't afraid of water, I'd drown myself.

If I wasn't afraid of living permanently disfigured, I'd douse myself in gasoline and light a match.

If I didn't care for others, I'd get in my car and intentionally have a car accident.

If I had the proper rope, knowledge of nooses, and no fear of long suffering, I'd hang myself.

If I had the ingredients, I'd create a bomb and blow myself to pieces.

If I wasn't afraid of living and ending up with liver or kidney failure, I'd research and overdose on pills again.

If I could will every cell of my being to stop functioning, I'd lay on the ground and cease to exist.