I always talk about suicide,
I never thought I would take it seriously,
now as I lay here on the tiled floor
holding myself up by the toilet
the razors laying beside me
I watch the visions of my life flash before me,
My childhood, a youg kid
being kicked down by the older kids
hating humanity then
My middle aged self,
holding a gun to someone's head
Thinking what I was doing,
he used to be my friend
His fault for betraying me
My thought of yesterday
My best friend jumping off the cliff
I remember myself smiling slightly one fall day
laying in the slightly chilled leaves
My three friends beside me
Out of the silence and laughing
The shot and a ghasp
My first friend's gurgled breath and struggles
jumping up, seeing the blood sprayed leaves
resembling the tiled floor beside me