8 02 2007

I stare at the blade with hatred
Thoughts go whirling round my head,
What was it that had led me to this moment?
To be willing to take my life without a second’s hesitation,
To be able to slip into nothingness
To allow the black that had plagued my life for so long
To finally dominate.

Had it been God’s laugh at my expense?
Had it been his mocking placement of you into my life,
Only to rip my heart in two?
Had it been my sheer hatred of the life I was forced to live?
I didn’t know.

But I knew it had to end.
Would anyone notice?
I poise the blade to my wrist.
Such a curious thing.
If I was going to die eventually,
Why not now?

I tear the blade across my flawless skin.
I’m dying.
I’m pouring
Crimson freedom.
I know I am free.
I’m dying.
Yet praying.
And Screaming.

My wounds cry for the grave.
My soul cries
Will I be denied?
Will I be thrown back into the life I am so eager to leave?
I pray I am too lost to be saved.
Am I too lost?

I am holding my last breath.
Safe inside my cage,
Are all my thoughts of you
Sweet ruptured light,
it ends here tonight.



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