My Disturbance

Suicidal thoughts are eating at my brain.

Images of slitting wrists contort my thoughts.

I stare in the mirror.

And I break it,

Thousands of little pieces of glass catapult at me...

And you know what?

I don't care.

The girl in the mirror stared back at me,

And she laughed,

Looking at me,

My pale, clenched body,

Cold and ugly,

Am I truly such nothingness?

Why does she hate me so?

Because I am worth hating.

The knife does look so sweet,

Cuts covered over my legs,

Because of wicked glass.

Small drops of blood,

All over the floor.

And I fall.

Tiny daggers eat at my flesh,

Will it all fall away?

I take the knife,

Look into its silver blade,

And there is the hateful girl,

Laughing back at me.

Take the sweetness to my wrists,

Slash, slash,

Cut, cut,

Ruptured veins,

Hot red fluid flows to the floor.

All breaks away,

Undone is my brokenness,

The end of my disturbance.