The Note

By Kris   

The Note
While my hands are shaking
I write the note carefully
I fold it
And look up at the stars
I see all my broken dreams
Within all the constellations
I take one last deep breath
As the tears fall down my face
I look in the mirror
With the gun in my hand
I pull the trigger
But no bullets remain
I take my bottle of pills
Swallow every last one of them
And fall to the ground

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Another poem about suicide