The Needle And Some Thread

I grab the needle, And I grab some thread, Beginning to think I am better off dead. The needle pokes my skin, And the thread tugs it even more, The pain is the only thing that is known for sure. I stitch up my lips together, And I know am doing myself harm, As my eyes wonder to the cuts on my arms. The thread is stained with blood, As is the cold floor, But I can't seem to feel the pain anymore. The time has come, And I know what to do, But can I let go of this life, and you?