I just want to end it,
Die from the cut that my blade just slit,
At moments like these it’s my only way out,
Being missed is something I really doubt,
The blood running down my arm is the best comfort,
In the end I never come out unhurt,
The pain, to me feels so good,
I would honestly stop if I could,
The cutting is my drug; the pain is my dealer,
When it comes to death I am no cheater,
I just want to go, to just die,
The pain, I will forever be dominated by,
Every single tear is filled with nothing but despair,
This pain I can no longer bare,
I think about it and feel out of breath,
Hoping to come soon is my very own death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem