My Last One (A Poem Goodbye)

I've barely coped up 'til now,
but I can't carry on anymore,
Whether God is ready for my death or not,
I'm closing my own door.

God has been so mean to me,
Foiled so many of my suicides,
This will be number thirty four,
I only hope this time I die.

I don't care what happens to me,
If I did I'd live,
Even though I'll be letting them down,
I don't really give.

Dad's dying anyway,
My sister's engaged,
There's just no room for me,
A screwed up teen with too much rage.

I've planned my funeral,
And made my unofficial will,
I only hope that I don't wake up,
Stuck with me still.

As I write this I'm drinking,
Swallowing pills galore,
And hopefully soon I will be,
Dead on my bedroom floor.

My wrists are bleeding,
My mind isn't all there,
My stomach is hurting badly,
And my family are watching unawares.

Please, all pray for me,
That I will die tonight,
Because I've never succeeded at anything before,
Try hard as I might.

Good........night.

"Just thought I'd let any1 know that I'm now awake
that was number 34 (like I said) and now I have a (four letter word) bad headache, one sore stomach and plasters covering my wrist. attempting suicide but not actually committing it really puts you of doing it again doesn't it?"