The bottle.

I stand there holding the boddle.
Wondering how things ever got this bad.
So manny rumors,
and no way to escape.
I just hold the bottle,
Not knowing what to do.
Should i just do it?
Who would ever care?
No one is on my side.
They like to see my tears.
They like to watch me sit in pain.
They all Call me emo,
Because of the scratches upon my legs.
They all see the scars on my wrists.
But thats why i hold this bottle,
Not knowing what to do.
I take the cap off,
And the pills slide down my throat.
As everything begins to go black and i hit the floor.
I know ill have happiness,
and wont have pain anymore.