2nd Annual Poems About Suicide Month

[billy]

Sphincter muscles relax and bowels
empty across the floor
mingling with congealed blood.
it seeped from cuts across my wrists.
Purple eye-shadow; watered down
drips over my pasty emo-cheekbones
I lack the will to have will.
Mother calls; She knows nothing
of who i am, lacks my understanding
of pain, of deep internal struggle
as it brings me down through the void
of angst into the world of the misjudged.
I bleed for you sister; fellow goth,
emo and person new to poetry.
Where are my accolades!
cut me cliche, do i not bleed.

Why is it taking so long to die
was the pin not sharp enough?
i hate you all.