Not a poem

My throat feels tight, I wanna plunge a knife inside of it and twist it like I was giving myself a makeshift tracheotomy.My eyes well up and I cry "Fatboy fatboy" I hear ringing in my ears I turn to hide "Its just sex, Shut up and take it" I hear I fall to my knee's....They all point and laugh.No one cares, No one wants to try to help...Why is this happening to me!!! What did I do!!!! All I fucking did was be born!! I curl up in a ball and cry harder, Unlovable, I want to move the knife around like a gearshift in a race car....The warmth of the blood spilling down my chest is comforting...I gasp for air, There is none. Blood fills my lungs I struggle to breath...I choke.I panic, I try to breath heavier and as I do I drown faster in my own blood...I sit back on the couch and I close my eyes....the blood reaches my legs...I cant open my eyes....This is the end...This is goodbye.I smile.It is over...All of the pain fades...I am free...I am at peace.