The Final Analysis Poem by Zanjabeel Almahdawi

Myself I wanted to kill,
So I swallowed those pills.

I, then, took a sip of water.
I've raged enough to slaughter.

I might cut my wrist
But then I'd be taking the risk.

Of still being alive
And they might try to revive

One who's dying on the inside.
Just wants to end it with suicide.

I want it to to be physical for them to feel.
It's so very hard to know it, it's so surreal.

Apparently, we share the symptoms of the same disease.
Their hearts are dead; they're too blind to see.

I seem to still be in a better case than theirs.
I know how I feel; I just want them to care.