Sliding the knife along my neck almost makes me feel alive.
Like I am being punished for being a bad person.
I don't deserve to be here... I think I should go.
The razor spills more blood, I feel weak.
I wish I could join my father on the other side.
Even the pills won't take me in.
Nothing wants me to leave.
But I want to go..
Why can't I just leave?
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