My want for death.

 

What’s the point?

Of living I mean.

Nothing happens to me, it’s the same, everyday!

Suicide is all I think,

but doing something like that is unlike me.

 

I go out in the world with a fake smile on my face.

No one can even tell I’m depressed.

All my friends think I’m the most energetic person in the world.

What they can’t see is my want for death.

 

I’m too afraid anyway.

Suicide is…painful.

Can you feel the bullet?

Can you feel the water taking up the remainder of your throat?

Can you feel the burning sensation?

 

The pain is what I’m afraid of.

It only will take a second.

It’s just a quick burst of hurt.

But I still can’t do it…

 

A person asks, “What’s wrong?”

I say, “Nothing.”

But, nothing, isn’t true.

Nothing, is my want for death.