Wishing for a Better Hell

I'm writing this to you to tell you I'm sorry. Right now, I'm standing on the eighteenth story. I'm thinking about jumping, Thinking about te pain, Wondering if my life is really worth something. I've nothing to gain, Except a rain of unforgiving pain, And a heart full of hate That will soon cause me to evaporate, And be led through a new gate. For my sake, I hope I go to hell In hopes it will protect me from myself.