You don't get it

Depression night I guess, rant thingie

How simple it would be
A simple cut
Up the wrist, maybe across the throat
I would end your so called "pain" that you get from being near me
It would stop the lies
It would stop the tears
You wouldn't miss me
Nobody would.
Don't pretend
Don't fake it
I know better then to trust you...right?

Author's Note

Ignore format