Hatred of Myself

I sit in my dark attic room on the dusty floor, I take a knife in my hand and go across my arm, Sounds come from the stairway as I watch the blood fall, I quickly try to hide the knife and get up on my bed, My mother walks in and she hands me a book and then she leaves the room, I wipe off my arm and look at the book to see what is says, It is a book about depression and how to cope, I throw the book and hit the wall with my fist, How did she find out and why does she care about what I do, I get out the knife and I start to cry for now it is the end, I take the knife and thrust into my chest, Crimson regret flows onto the floor as I think about my past, Betrayal and hatred is my past and my future holds the same, My eyes close and I take my last breath as I leave this world for good, Hatred of myself still lives though I have passed away.