Intangible love

Here I sit,
On an old wooden floor,
Dust blowing up,
I can’t take it anymore.
So, I‘m writing this letter,
In a dimly lit room,
Going to make you see,
That this ended too soon.
I write to you,
Letting you know all my strife,
Then my pencil breaks,
And I take out my knife.
The blade slips,
Ripping into my skin,
I begin to bleed,
Hoping it’s the end.
Red drops on the floor,
I’ll kill myself today,
I needed you here,
But I couldn’t make you stay.
A slash on the wrist,
A puddle starts to form,
I write it down,
I can’t take it anymore.
I cut my throat,
About three inches or so,
I make it bleed,
Then a knocking at the door.
Too weak to answer,
To even say, “Come in”
The door creaks open,
The light shows someone thin.
It’s all too blurry,
I can’t see who it is,
I drop down on the floor,
It’s serious.
I reach up to you,
Extending my hand,
But before you can grab it,
It falls to the land.

You dial for help,
But none has arrived,
I’m too far gone,
With no hope to survive.
You kiss me again,
Like you did before,
And now here I am,
Dying on the floor.
You dial again,
Holding on the line,
Staying with me,
Until they arrive.
They pick me up,
Cold and dead,
The last thing I say,
As you hold my head.
"I love you today,
And for all eternity"
They took me away,
With all certainty.
Cold and lifeless,
Bleeding no more,
They bag me up,
Blood still on the floor.
You see the letter,
And start to cry,
Asking me again,
Why did you commit suicide?
You read my letter,
Painted with drops of red blood,
You find two words...
~Intangible Love~

I got this poem in an e-mail I did not write it, Chris D. Goggin did.
i thought it was really good, so i put it on this site.