Waddya think of this poem?

Poem-
cinta is patient
cinta is kind
cinta is psycho
Plays with your mind.
I still need you
And anda need me too.
Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa.
My fault, my grievous fault.
When you're hurt
oleh my hand
It's Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa.
To cinta is to destroy.
It's a contradiction.
When I've tried my hardest to keep anda safe
Shield anda from the world outside
I try to kill those who breathe on you
I feel apathy.
You're warmth on my skin
Chills me within, I push anda away
I run away from you, my fears of losing you
Overcome my cinta for you
Cut myself, dreams of anda deteriorating slowly kill me
Driving me insane
anda ask of my issues
I don't let anda know for it may hurt anda too.
So as we kiss, I slice the skin on my arm with my daging panggang, steak knife.
I bleed and bleed, staining the white shag rug. Scarlet.
anda scream and scream until I whisper my last words, 'I cinta you, but it killed me.'
And I wake up in cold yet hot sweat, pain easing up my arm. I look down, and see the scarlet invitation to a death parade.
I send anda a goodbye text. Telling anda to come visit me in the morning,
I walk slowly but steadily into the dapur and pull out the pisau from my dream.
Cutting the skin on my chest, 'You+Me= 
Till I see blood. Walk back to my room
Take my last breath and l slowly die.