A gentle smile tugged at the corner of my lips,
I always fantasized about my death,
Would I die in my sleep, would someone take my life to live their own,
Would I be missed, if I took this knife across my neck,
Or flew from this tower so everyone could see my wings,
Or took this pills that gave me great thoughts, most about my death?
Would I die from suffocating, or drowning myself?
Would I be slain in my home, targeted for my odd tastes?


It seemed funny, that with every swing of my drink,
I was committing suicide without anyone knowing?
I needed help, just too proud to admit,
If pride go before the fall,
Then I must be falling, the only difference between me and you is…
I’m never landing.