Beautiful Suicide

Thoughts of suicide are crossing my head right now. I’m not confused on how to do it.
Neither am I hesitant or frightened.
I don’t feel shivers when I’m thinking about it. It is the only thing that I’ve been sure of my entire life.
I used to wonder why would a person like Robin Williams take his own life. I haven’t found the answer of what would make anybody kill themselves.
Now I realize reasoning is containable.
There’s no reason
" for me at least-
to kill myself.
I just feel this is what I’m supposed to do.
I have to kill myself before another sunrise kills me.
Only I am worthy of such an act.
Nothing is noble enough to take my soul but me.
I’ve always been frustrated when something I’ve been wondering about is left unanswered.
The existence of god, religion, luck, infinity. But only death eases my heart.
I believe this is the essence of the concept of believing.
To believe is: Felt ridiculously powerful at heart, makes no sense to the mind, but you don’t even bother to make sense out of it.
I believe that,
Suicide is my religion,
Hug me, death. Make me cold.
Before another sunbeam touches my pillow.