
Just the usual, daily life in the point of view of a usually, daily suicidal person. But now something changes. Today. For everyday.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Angst - Words: 273 - Published: 06-10-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2683674
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Made: Friday, June 5, 2009
Time: Unknown
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Eyes open,
Light comes in.
Stumbling up and out
As the voices shout.
The memories return;
All you can do is burn
By the light outside,
But you're inside.
Huddled close,
You take the most
Of the pills
But they spill
And now the glass is empty.
So you scream.
Then you drown
As the blood spirals down
With the tears you shed
While wishing you were dead.
Still nothing works.
This life has no quirks.
You heal yourself—
Might as well.
You're too weak to let go—
Too show the world you know
Just how empty it can be,
But, still, they will not see.
The day continues
As nothing new.
Only anger grows
Throughout your show.
So you run,
Picking up the gun.
No noise is heard…
Until you curse—
These bullets are nameless,
Always shameless.
You scream again—
Scream at all of them.
Why did they leave?
Why won't they grieve?
What's wrong with you?
You didn't get to choose
How you are
Or just how far
The ones you know
Will go
To care for you
And keep loving you.
The glass
Will never last.
The pills
Will never kill.
The gun
Won't let the bullets come…
Until now.
The sun goes down.
No more lights,
No more sight.
Your choices laid out.
There's no more time to shout.
The slices make you weak,
The pills make you freak,
Then the gun—
And it's done.
No more light;
Not even night,
Just darkness
With no forgiveness.
You will wake never,
For death is forever.
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