With a gun in my mouth for the last time,
I swear and I swear no more excuses for hanging around.
If I’ve got to be me
then no need to be.
Time to pay for my life of emotional crimes.
Finally found myself and I hate what I found.
Will the last friend leaving please turn out the lights?
Regret and remorse have defined my life.
30 year old abortion.
No more fire, no more love, no more spite,
no more energy or desire to deal with the strife.
If I could be anybody else, I’d already be them,
incompetence and emptiness always foil
my best laid plans,
Ready for my 9 millimeter medicine,
ready to blow myself off this mortal coil.
Please note this poem reflects a moment of morose but honest self-reflection, however in no way do I think suicide is in any way a good idea and have honestly never seriously considered it. And I hope this doesn’t offend anyone who has had the horrible experience of having someone they knew take their own life.