If I wrote you a suicide letter would you reply?

If I let my ink run out, would you let it dry?

Do I have to leave you bereft?

Just to summon the person who left.

Urging the comeback of the man I was

A person who had confidence in all he does

Now I’m adrift in a dark sea

Suffocating in the thought of me

I hate myself, and I’m to blame

Pretty sure I’m clinically insane

Emotions buried down, heart stopping

My two kids, the only thing keeping me from dropping/

I’m constantly climbing out of an insurmountable hole/

Shedding layers of my soul

It would be easier to cease all breath

Welcome the cold embrace of death

They say get hobbies and time will heal

But I have no hobbies, and it hurts to feel

Every second of every day is pain

I crave relief, but my kids make me refrain

But how long will that win?

What can stop this immoral sin?

Maybe I’ll try to talk, write a letter.

Maybe if I vomit words I’ll feel better.

Take a blade to my wrists let the ink flow

Let’s give miracle prose a go.

I’m writing you a suicide letter, will you reply?

But my ink is running out, will you let it dry?

-Poetic Ice