and want to die,,,..

i hate myself and want to die.
i question life, and i ask why?
This falsehood always makes me cry;
how can existence be a lie?

i travel through the maze of life,
through the bleeding, and the strife.
Along with me, i bring a knife,
incase i need to end said strife.

Or, perhaps if it need be,
the knife could find a use with me.
i can draw two pretty lines,
two pretty lines, that look like vines,
as i remember the good times.

Now i can feel from up high,
drops of water, from the sky.
As i look up, i see the rain,
the rain to wash away all pain.

From said lines, or rather vines,
comes rushing, gushing, deep red blood,
the blood that ends up in the mud.
Whilst my sorrows wash away,
i realize it, my last day.

As my vision narrows in,
i ask myself, is this a sin?
A puddle, growing by my feet,
soon my heart will cease to beat.

My balance failing, vision ailing,
now i spear the spirits wailing.
Down i fall, beside the wall,
i crawl and slouch against said wall,

Now i feel death creeping in,
a place before I've never been.
i then cry, blindly ask why?
i hate myself and want to die.