This is my happy poem

Loved space or lived spaces

I haven’t worked up the courage to kill myself

Makes me feel real ill 

Makes me want to seal the deal

Grab ahold to your maker, look them in the face and hold accountability 

Limp limbs on the bathroom floor, and cleaning up your mess is not your responsibility 

What would you gain they’ll ask, shouting voices around your lifeless eyes

Tears form deeply into angel’s  hearts as feelings arise

But why can’t I kill myself 

I’ve tried the doses

Liquid gels the motion

Painkillers atrocious 

Maybe another form shall do

Because the usual isn’t working, so onto something new

If my demon wants to win, I’ll let it

As it stares me down in my room at night

Making me anxious, making me nervous, no more energy left to fight

So I’ll kill myself