What to do

Separated by hate and fear
Longing to be motionless and dead
No one knows me, not one thought they hear
But my death, a moment I dread
A world shattered to bits
My body ripped and slain
My wrists destroyed by bloody slits
Leaving me broken alive in pain
Thoughts of a crying soul
Wishing to be heard and seen
And wanting to fill this empty hole
And my depression so potent and keen
That still no ones care will ever reach
Leaving me alone and dark
That hate is what everyone will teach
My quest I will never embark
Will they see me cry?
Will they see my depression?
Will they see me die?
A moment needing suppression
Me, a lonely girl with dead flowers pinned in her hair
Torn and bloody, lost in tears and mourns
And still no one will ever seem to care
In hatreds grasp, stabbed by his horns
Tears became endless and long
My soul still black and cracked
This my end, will become my song
And my good memories stolen and hacked
A world of my sullen cries and mishap
I seem to fall with every attempt to fly
My tattered wings will never again flap
Perhaps I shall do and die
Leave this world and ease my pain
Forget every thought that crossed my mind
And all my blood I will drain
Hate and death will soon begin to bind
In the knife, and the notes I write
Many goodbyes and regrets written in blood
The battle of life and death I will begin to fight
And a river of tears and blood in this room will flood
Life, a thought so distant and far
No, break the thought of my death, my suicide, a betrayal, a sweet sin
What to do, to take my life or to straighten out? I’m becoming what you are
A confused creature mixed up by a world created by fear, in which you lived in
And now I take hold of what you left behind
Your suicide a success, leaving me with all your pain
Reading your notes in blood you signed
Shall I be like you? And take place all your gain?
To end my life, or to stay in pain and live
I’m so confused; I know nothing of what to do
I’m sick of the depression this place has to give
I do not want anything more to do with this or you
To care or plead silence; my weak hands are calling
I became a slave to you, now I am you
Now my only choice is to do what you would to end my falling
Here in this room I die, and sign all my letters in blood too

-please vote and comment, i would really appriate it, thanx-