Spoken in the first person, this is a raw statement of suicidal despair. The speaker says again and again that they want to be dead, and the poem gives the reasons as they see them: they believe everyone would be happier without them, that no one would miss them, and that they are hated. Underneath it all is self-loathing, which grows from "I hate myself to pieces" to a list that takes in body, heart, soul and life.
The language is blunt and the lines are short, with almost no decoration, which makes the pain feel immediate rather than performed. A few details stand out. "Best dressed" is a dark, strange bit of humor, and the question "what would you do?" seems to turn toward the reader, as if asking for a response. The ending, about a birthday wish that never came true, is both childlike and heartbreaking. The mood is bleak and exhausted, but the speaker is also reaching out by saying all this aloud.
If these feelings are close to your own, please talk to someone you trust or contact a local crisis line.