What Can I Do

A lonely soul, wishing to conquer.
Hovering over her last words.
Wishes are made, then whispers are heard.
Her dark mind is ready to fly.
'I want to be free' she screams, her only plea.
But oh, how I do not want this to be me.
The healer of many, but what can I do for myself?
When all my rules were written by the one I hate most.
They're a liar, a cheat, a steal.
Thinking about this almost makes me lose my last meal.
I am the puppeteer to my own self destruction.
Death near due to how I heal opposed to others.
My silver puppet strings wish to cut me open.
I'm ready for my blood to flow.
Funny how no one will know.
Helpless, lying on the floor.
Hell, I have already explored.
What can I do?
When I am ready to live no more.