How many tears have I cried for useless things?
How many people have I cared for but they didn't care back?
How many times must I be hurt to crumble?
How many nightmares must I suffer to realize my demise?
How many notes to everyone must I write before I finally waste away,

Into the forgotten world that I already live in?
I'm only halway there,
I'm almost where I truely wish to be...

Don't bother me,
I wish to waste away.
Mind as well do it now
Than wait for the appointed day.

I think about the way I'm treated,
In front and behind my back,
I'm the nicest person in the world,
Why would someone do that?

But when I think about it,
And actually think about me,
I wonder if I really belong,
What do people see in me?

I have what any person has
Well depression is not one.
And dreams of me dying are the happiest,
Because the life I have is done.

Though this don't seem like much of a "Note",
I warn you that it is, upon many.
And yet when I retrace my thoughts,
I'm already dead, but the look of life, I show plenty.

So how many letters must I write,
To reveal what's in my soul?
I no longer have feelings,
Now dying is my goal.