fucking done.

i wish i could just run off the edge. just fly like a butterfly. I want to die. I want to die. but for real this time, i’m serious…so I have a knife, a rope, and a tall building…I’m not kidding. I’m dying, tired of living. the one person i care for is leaving, and they’re leaving me greiving. i’m done. so I’ll tie the noose, I’ll slip my head in, I’ll step up on the ledge, I’ll take the knife, I’ll stab my heart for the thousandth time, and I’ll fall, if the noose breaks i’ll fall…whatever happens…I’m sure i’ll die. I’m going to die. no one can stop me. If they try, I’m jumping anyways. I have a day to prepare.

I’m dying,
i’m not lying,
I’m sick of trying
this time i’m flying
I’m done goodbye’ing.
I’m finished shining,
I’m fading,
no chance saving.
I’m leaving.
Not breathing.
I’m done trying,
done surviving.
And eh, not surprising.