On the couch

On my side

Knees drawn up

Left arm



Drak scars

Empty chest

Too far down

To cry

Too far down

To care

So far

In the chasm

Does it end?

Probably not.

No longer

Free falling

Just drifting deeper

Ever deeper

All that is left

Is merely

The knife

Orbiting slowly around me

My scars

Are just that


Fresh wounds long gone

One question;

Do I

Take up the knife


I want to

I shouldn't

I drift down

Towards the nonexistant bottom

And ponder

I have plenty of time

Endless time


But suddenly

I am free falling again

Reach to the blade

It's so cold

I grip it

As I free fall

And wonder

How much time do I really have?

In truth

As I bring the blade down

In a violent arch

I have

Very little time at all

I slip away and can't help but wonder;

Where to now?

Will I just keep falling into the abyss?