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I’ve long been pondering suicide,
My life is such a mess,
I thought to try on the other side,
It couldn’t be worse than this,
I’d always been such a coward though
My pain threshold is low,
I wondered how I could **** myself
With just one simple blow.

I didn’t fancy to cut my throat
There’s such a lot of blood,
And somebody has to clean it up
They’d curse me, as they should,
A gunshot straight to the head would put
My brains all over the wall,
And everything would be grey and red
With a blood-spray in the hall.

So I considered a poison pill
And a quart of Mister Beam,
That might just happen to fit the bill
For a death, both quick and clean,
But where would I get a poison pill
To accelerate my death?
I’d hate to die when I’m feeling ill,
Fighting for every breath.

I’d pondered on it so very long
That it quite obsessed my mind,
And I began to see shapes and figures
From some other time,
The ghosts of others who’d gone ahead
And done the evil deed,
Were poisoned, shot, or their throats were cut
When their own lives were in need.

They seemed to come when the clock struck twelve
Just on the midnight hour,
That’s when the demons that rot in hell
Can demonstrate their power,
They kept on coming to egg me on
To get on that fatal bus,
‘You need to do it, it isn’t wrong,
You can join with all of us!’

They almost had me convinced that I
Could drown myself in the sea,
Or pick my favourite river then,
One that appealed to me,
They said to drown was a pleasant death
I’d drift away in a dream,
And none would know that I’d killed myself,
It’s an ‘accidental’ theme.

The next night there came a stranger to
This ghostly neighbourhood,
Trailing festoons of river ****
And covered in clods of mud,
His face was twisted in anguish and
Such pain, that now I see,
Why I have suddenly changed my mind,
That freak-out ghost, was me!

David Lewis Paget
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
MaikS
Art
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
MaikS
Art
You were art
I was just passing by

But the stars must have aligned
‘Cos your eyes looked into mine

I stopped dead in my tracks
And slowly turn your way

In these halls, I took my time
In front of you, I stayed

Oh I’d wish nothing more
Than to take you as my own

But you were art
Behind a velvet rope

You were art
I’m not allowed to touch

You were art
And the museum is closing.
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Zoe
This world is my temporary home,
for Heaven is my eternal home.
Thank God I am,
one of His children.

...
~ Marian's challenge got me thinking...
Here is my effort. Hope you enjoy! :)
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Hayleigh
-
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Hayleigh
-
If love is a war
Than I shall live and die
Inside of you
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Hayleigh
I wrote you a love letter today,

If you listen close enough
You'll hear the gentle drumming of my heart beat
Inside the envelope.

Don't drop it.
Open it gently.

Inside you will find
Chemical solutions, black
Ink on a page, a heavy handed mass
Of words, slotted carefully between each other,
Lines saturated in love.
Hand crafted works of art
An attempt to articulate and communicate
The fires you send swimming through
My veins, the tsunamis you send
Tripping of my tongue.

Scribbled confessions of just how much my body aches for your touch.

Don't drop it.
Open it gently.

It is yours.
It has always been yours.
I have always been yours.
Repost of an older poem I wrote for my gorgeous girl to celebrate it being officially published in a book! Hope you all enjoy!
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Hayleigh
If i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
And excerpt of one of my poems, for all those who are suffering or who know someone that is suffering. There is always hope.
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Hayleigh
SD
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Hayleigh
SD
Too often, our hearts are stolen, snatched, hands forced beneath our rib cages and bones shattered as they leave our chests.

But not her

She was different entirely.

I loved being in love with her
Often in the smallest, softest moments
Walking with her in the park, holding her hand at the cinema, sliding the straighteners through her hair, sleepily pressing my lips against hers at four in the morning, hearing her laughter echo across the room

It would hit me
As if the sun had let go of the earth

Just how lucky I was
To have the entire world
At my fingertips

*I would love her relentlessly.
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Hayleigh
-
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Hayleigh
-
How many times can I cut myself in syllables and bleed in sentences?
 Mar 2017 Rachel Glen
Hayleigh
Hold my hand.

Let's run through the fields of regret.
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