Suicide Poem by Sara Panicali

Suicide
It's all i think about
Can't get it out
So hard to resist
resist the urge to slit my wrist
wishing i had a gun
all i have is a small razor
so i drag the blade across my arms and legs
wishing to do myself much more harm
however, I only wake up
soaked in blood
cuts all over my body
and im still somehow alive
deep long gashes,
lots of blood gone
how am i still here?
I really need a gun
one day... one day
Suicide