I'm not a poet and I know it
but I'm still deep
my thoughts are still released in sentences spoken
when written I expose all emotions
I'm happy, exactally where I want to be in life
I'm mad, someone go hide the knives
not debating suicide, debating ending a being
then I'm shy, don't know why I had homicidal thoughts
don't know why I'm so scared
desparity ceizes hold
flashes of emptiness caress my inner mental state
hollow, filled up now it's forgotten
I'm positive, I know this whole bottle, I can swallow it
percocet, nervous wreck
drug induced sweat....... Death..

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Simple (which is still good, but at times a bit TOO SIMPLE), but had it's moment of real depth and slight complexity to it...

the ending was well executed...

...nothing else to say really, respect...

thanx.. read the title tho.. I'm not a poet at all.. that's what you'd call a first attempt..

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^^^^Yeah, i took that into account...