Uncommitted Suicide
All she had to do was cut one centimeter deeper
To the vein
She was such a pussy when it came to pain
Pain hurts
But pain was all she knew in life
Why the hell should death treat her any differently
"Death, where is thy sting?"
I'll give you a clue, it's at the edge of the f*cking razor blade
She gazed dumbly down at her wrists
Criss crossed
Like some demon play a indolent game of tic-tac-toe on her arm
Sort of like a spider web
God damn it, why did she have to be such a weakling
Wasn't death supposed to be an end
Then why did it take so long to claim her
She touched the scars from countless other suicides
And gave up
She gave up again
Not on life but death
Oh, she'd try again and again
And again
Until she got it right
or died trying
But that's sort of the point here, isn't it
But she was tired of waiting
For now at least
"I guess," she thought, "I just have a fear of commitment"
