Cracked lips

There are flashes on my pc-screen
little icons of conversations on MSN
I ignore them

My phone is ringing, friends who want to do stuff with me
Drinking, playing games, having fun.
I won't answer it

Someone's knocking on my locked door, yelling at me to let them in
They try to reach me, so the can make me go outside
I won't open it

My apartment is nice and clean, as I tidied it up a few days ago
Everything in it's plae. Everything must be perfect.
The note is on the fridge

There's someone at my window, looking in to see if I'm here
They see me. They go to the door and knock it in
They see me again

I'm sitting in my chair, my eyes closed as if sleeping
When they come near they see my white dried up skin
my half-open mouth with cracked lips
The glass on the floor with a stain of something beside it

They smell the poison all over the apartment
and they find the note on the fridge
they read it and then they start to weep
they weep not for me, but for the words on the paper

"I hate you all..."