There's a story to this poem

I am flawed, as are you.

Mine I choose not to hide

Unlike you do.

No mountains of makeup,

I was not ashamed.

But you wounded me

You don’t care that I cried.

You made me hate me,

Even after the tears dried.

Every word you said,

Broke me a little more.

I’d rather have been dead.

Soon I’ll be gone.

Soon I’ll be dead.

All your words,

Mess with my head.

I dedicate my death to you.

Feel like crap? I do too.

That was the poem left as a suicide note. A failed suicide, but still.

She's my friend and we all know who it was aimed at.

I teared up as I read it, probably only because I knew her.

Sad but beautiful, right?

That's so moving. Incredibly sad. She sounds like she was blaming you for her death. Never blame yourself for something like that. And yes, it is beautiful.

Michelle, that was so sad. Incredibly beautiful.