Kill the Host, Keep the Heart.

Death, please take me seriously.
Take a gun and blow my brains out.
Me being dead would seem that more fun.
Shove thirty sleeping pills down my throat.
Make me choke on my vomit while I swallow them, all to have endless sleep.
Cut my neck clean open so the blood pours out nicely.
Paint me red with that blood and make my dead body shine like my broken soul.
Watch my body shake with no motion to give.
After I die I have one request.
Cut my heart out and save it in a jar for it will still beat after death.
With or without a host it will still shine on.
It has been broken, fixed and loved.
That cycle is endless.
Cherish It Death, because I know I did.