End-Point

Being pushed to the point where suicide is the only answer.

It doesn't matter how I feel.
If it did, how I feel, the world would know.
My love isn't exactly the biggest steal.
But I promise my heart can grow.

For myself a favor's not being done.
But I can't say, even a little bit, that I care.
Cares I find, there simply are none.
Couldn't find one even if it were a dare.

Slandering myself, you may think I seek retaliation.
Or maybe you think I'm simply fishing.
But I only mean to express my aggravation.
For you to understand, I'm only wishing.

To be dead, I wouldn't prefer nor mind.
Dying doesn't bring me fear.
Life is the only fear I find.
Perhaps my death is finally near.