Suicide from pain

With a blade at my throat,
i read her tender note.

she hates me now,
still i can not see,
with out her,
my life,
no happiness can be.

lifting my blade,
alone and afraid,
fearing the coldness of the river i now wade,
and so i see,
that living alone,
just me,
i can not be.

I'm part of two,
only one of a few,
they wont miss me,
they wont kiss me...
goodbye...

tender night,
so sweet and light,
riding the day from sight,
my hand slipped,
the knife flipped,
and now i bleed, no lovely death for me,
the flowers, the trees,
there the only ones who will mourn me,

as i lay dying,
my last thought bursts through the door,
as my last drops hit the crimson floor.