Just me and the knife

I sat there, on the bathroom floor,
with the knife in my hand
telling myself...should i do it...should i not
why should i carry on living?
theres nothing to live for anymore
i love you, and want only you...cant you see that?
so i sit hear with the knife hanging over my wrist...
i dig the knife in nice and slowly i can feel no pain except the pain in my heart
the blood drips off my wrist as a tear runs down my cheek one more cut should do it, i look at the puddle on the floor it looks so rewarding,
so finally i dig the knife in my wrist again, thinking about you every second
then i take my last breath as i fall to the floor...
now i will cry for you no more.