by dragonfly Feb 26, 2005
category :
Sadness, depression /
about depression
I see the knives sitting on the counter. Right now nothing else matters. I pick up the knife and run the blade across my finger. Put my finger to my lips and taste the faintest wisp of danger. My mind is racing as if this were a test. Will I make it through this madness or give into death. Lost and lonely in my thoughts, searching for a reason not to ceil my fate. Wrapped in confusion, trying whole-heartedly not to give way. I lean against the wall and thrust the blade into my chest. Blood spews, pain intrudes, the welcoming of death. I fall to the floor staring at the crimson colored blood. I can feel the life leaving me so I close my eyes. I'll finally get to rest but to do this I had to die. |
by Hans Fausto
I like the way you wrote your poem...although it seems a little cluttered the rest is okay...keep it up:D |
by Jason Meres
It's good just to get things out, isn't it? Well expressed. |
Hey great write! This is so dark and powerful! Keep up the great work! |
Hang in there honey xx |
by Nobia
v.nice one! i don like many poems tht dont rhyme..but this one ws good! tcz~ |