I touched the knife to my skin, slightly cold. Why? Depression? Not seeing the reason.

Why? No purpose. I look at myself and don't see it. Too many problems. That's why. I

want to end the suffering and not FEEL ANYTHING!! Why am I here, everyone asks.

No. Some select things to live for. Then when things don't go right. I want to die. When I get annoyed I want to die to end my discomfort. Fuck myself. I hate my life so much. I want to bleed and end it all so bad. Will I ever do it. The chemical to live so there. I only taste the pleasure of death. To be alone forever is to die in peace. Why suffer when you can cut to the chase? So much to live for? Tell me what then I don’t hear them. Let me try again...