The End (suicide awareness)

I have a bullet with my name on it and a razor with my blood dripping from it, this pain or better yet this pleasure is indescribable. They thought that their physical, verbal, and mental abuse would break me but all they do is add more reminders on my body of things they’ve done to me. I’m numb to the world around me only my tormenters know how to faze me into causing this secret pleasure. I wonder how they would handle the suffering if we switched would they accept defeat with a rope, meds, a bullet, or a sharp pierce to the skin. I wonder how many would care if my life was to stop at an instance well….only one way to find out, POW!!!