The speaker feels unheard and quietly hopeless. Almost every line is a "why bother?" question, and each comes with its own bitter answer: you won't listen, you won't achieve anything, you won't see me again. The speaker has already decided how other people will react, and that certainty is what makes the voice so tired. Even kindness, in the form of a compliment, gets brushed aside as pointless.
The repetition makes the poem feel like a loop of the same thought going round and round. The short, plain lines add to this, since nothing is dressed up. Then the final line drops the heaviest idea, that the other person wouldn't care even if the speaker died. It's a blunt, painful ending, and the poem stops there without offering comfort or a reply.
The mood is bleak, lonely, and withdrawn. It reads like someone who feels invisible and is testing whether anyone will push back against that feeling, though the poem itself never says whether anyone does.