Suicide

My granddad killed himself before I was born.
Sometimes he visits me.
I can feel him, sitting with me.
He was there on my worst night.
He was there last night.
Sometimes I talk to him.
I tell him everything.
I tell him I can't do it.
I must follow his path.
I say I'm trying.
It's not enough.
I wish I wasn't like this.
What is wrong with me?
Everything, in a way.
Sometimes I spray so much deodorant I can't breathe.
Sometimes I undercook food by a few minutes.
Sometimes I pray to not wake up the next morning.
It seems I am not meant to die.
Maybe I have a guardian angel.
Or maybe I just need to try harder.