So Tired
I’m tired of crying,
I’m tired of overthinking,
I’m tired of breathing,
I’m so tired of pretending.
I’m holding a sharp blade,
enough to cut my wrist
and make it bleed nonstop.
In the count of three, it will.
I’m holding a rope.
I’m ready to hang myself.
In the count of three,
I’m already hanging and unable to breathe.
Who would miss me?
No one for I’m left alone.
No one dared to help me
instead they mocked me.
Now that I’m gone, forever gone.
Who is going to find me?
For in my last seconds,
I only have myself with me.