Over

Outside I'm fine.
Inside I'm dying.
Maybe this is all just a dream,
No, a nightmare,
From which I will soon wake up.
Hiding it all through a fake smile,
It's starting to become too hard to do.
People around me slowly start to realize,
And they become worried.
I deny it, too scared to show my feelings.

Running out of things to do to make the pain disappear,
So I resort to drugs and self-harm.
Drops of red flow from my wrist,
Faster and faster.
Needles flowing into my arm,
Full of drugs.
The room begins to spin,
I press the blade harder to my wrist.

The last few moments,
Starting to shake, losing breath.
I just couldn't take it anymore,
With no idea what to do.

My heart slows,
My breathing gets shorter and shorter.
This is it.
I'm done with this.
It's over.

Disclaimer: I know this is really dark and suicidal.  No, I'm not suicidal.  I wrote this when I was in a very dark place. Don't worry, I'm sticking around for the long run.