Oh crap, it hurts. The pain's too much.
The blade draws blood with each deep touch.
Along my wrists and on my chest.
Almost devoid of emotion, myself I detest.
Oh sh*t, it hurts. The pain's too strong.
The blood's been dripping for way too long.
Across my legs and down my arm.
I wish I had the strength to avoid this harm.
Oh f**k, it hurts. The pain won't go.
The blood is seeping in an endless flow.
From my eyes and over my cheeks.
I'm slowly dying, I already feel weak.
Oh yes, it's gone. I feel all numb.
My tears I wipe with a stroke of my thumb.
I'm getting tired, my eyes feel heavy.
It's time to go, I'm finally ready.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|The Lost Girl (184.108.40.206) -- Tuesday, November 8 2005, 12:24 am|
Mike, this poem is really good. You and I have amazingly similar lives. I applaude this poem (even if it was written some time ago).
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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
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