The bloody mess, You feel the panick
An addict, cannot quit, You are a manic
Staring to the ceiling ghostly
Between trees, feeling lonely
Close the curtains slowly
Lock the door, 3 turns, slowly
Eyes closed and You start to weep
Dark clots, more crimson as You seep
The smoke, it dances, twists and fades away
You start to ponder, to Your head You find the way
Desolated ruins, acid rain, darkness, isolated and You begin to freeze
Call list flooded by hotlines: suicide, disorders, abuse and disease
Lonely, tired, never got it right and You are still out of sight
You gaze at the mirror, want to kill everyone in sight
A belt to choke away the pain, suffocating
Throat breaks, You croak, Your lungs are failing
Instantaneous remorse, You try to scream loud but just a hoarse voice, despair
Blue face, dangling legs moving blindy trying to swing yourself back to the chair
Arms give You up, eyes roll back, You feel the soul leaving your body, You want it back
Hallucinating, seeing the loved ones again as Your vision starts going black
Your legs reach something, You are thankful for a moment, You start to feel the air again
You cough and see once more, burst into tears as You check the hideous scar then
A bunch of feelings hit You and Your head feels heavy and weary
You swallow some pills and go to sleep dreary
YOU ARE READING
Fiendish sculpture
PoetryBestow a skilful sculptor blunt chisels and he will carve permanent scars into granite.
