Promised deal.

Promise I got to do better than this
Cause right now, I could slit my wrists.
Fuck existence, survival. I quit.
My pain this feeling. I feel unequipped.
Conscious guess, overdue deliverance.
God don’t hear.
I’ll no longer repent.
Perhaps the facts, my blessings are spent.
Pay me in pain, me, myself and torment.
Thoughts practically dark and vision, reckless
Knott me a noose, rope bound, round my neck.
Awful to think, id lost all self-respect.
“Two Kilos of Ink”,
Yet still I regress.
God damn best guess, Ill own, I’m depressed
As a mind check
Bullet, barrel and Russian roulette.
Or overdose, I’ve got Prozac left.
This pain, I’m insane.
Id stick a knife in my chest.
Wish it where funny but real is real.
Just me and my writes, and sometimes how I feel.
Delightful, the opposite wrote and sealed.
Maybe one more written and id sign me a deal.