before i slit my wrist again, i think to myself.........


what would it be like to take a razor and put it against my throat, push it one more time, not feeling the pain. slowly slide it across my throat watching the blood gush out, not feeling the razor sever through the flesh on my neck. slowly drifting away, taking my last breath of air, thanking GOD for not stopping me. cutting deeper, to make sure to die, getting over-whelmed with joy that my pain and suffering is finally through.


I had thoughts like this since i was 14 years old, it is very difficult to make things "succeed" if someone truly hates them self, Isn't it?

Once Again:

He was ashamed,
afraid to live
He wanted to die,
and you stopped him
He wanted to stop his suggering,
but you caused him more pain
When you sent him away,
it brought more anger and grief upon himself.

He decided to end his life,
and to get away from the world
Then you stopped him,
dismay overcame his body
The blood rushed through his veins,
Suicide was on his mindHe wanted to pass it by,
and it seemed to keep coming back.

He would try to cut it away,
But it would only eat him alive
The cold chills came over him,
and the blood poured out
He knew that it was his time to go
but once again,
the doctors were back.

They took him away,
and he was put away one last time
They sewed him up,
Once again, he was in a sad grieving time
He was let go to live in a mintal institution.

Once again, on the last time,
he tried to take his own life,
and succeeded
No one got to him in time,
He took his final breath.