One of these nights will be the death of me

If it weren’t for her, I think I probably would have done it by now.

Sometimes I wish everyone hated me.

At least then I might have the heart to end everything.

I can’t do it if I know that I’ll cause others pain.

I don’t want to be selfish, I don’t want be friends to get hurt because I couldn’t deal with myself.

I’m really not sure why I haven’t shot myself yet

When I was younger I wished for toys
As I grew I wished for other things
Money, games, books, travel, a friend
Then I wished for her, then her, and her

Now, I wish mostly for these long nights to end
And for the morning sun’s warm embrace
To find me cold and fading,
As frost on my bedroom window.