I think of a word  and then write it out, the

rope is now thrown up and over placed

just right, I write one more the noose is

nicely tightened up just right.

  

A word comes to mind, a thought

made on paper, can I guess

what will happen next.

  

So many words writtern, things

I have done to make this right, first

was the rope, the noose tightened

just right a word on paper

the rope drawn to that which will

hold it tight.

  

Words have been writtern the

time running out, as the last

one is on paper my time has run out.

  

The hang man is finished the note

writtern out, where once there was panic

and movment, I am the hang man silent, still

the noose drawn tightly no air to escape

in or out.

  

Peace now resides on this still

  calm face, as I am waiting to be  found

with my note explaning everything

neatly writtern out.

What might have been is no more.
Time to forget, and leave regrets to the past.
Emotional attrition has no place in going forward.
I loved you.
Did you love me?
I'll never know, it was never to be.
I'll remember the way we laughed
I'll remember the way we glanced at each other
I'll never be sorry for loving you
No repentance is needed
We both took different paths.
My regret is that I still see your face in my dreams
I'll be contrite this night, lying by my husband and
Not you

Different ways to go, so many
things to ***** a life, make once
that beat no blood to flow, spoilt
for the ways to end. to go out quite,
to go with a splat make it public
or in secret not found till I am
just bone.

I go through the pros and cons
of which way to go. a bullet is
quick, gone to fast to feel the
pain as my skull and brain
paints the wall. But what if I
pause, and I shot the side of
my face off, blind unable to eat
with out a straw, scratch that
off my list a shudder down the
spine the gun goes into its locked
draw.

Then there is the rope, from a tree
or a height as long as my feet don't
touch the floor. the Pros again quick
and cheap a snapped neck I'm gone
here no longer anymore. But what
happens, if the neck doesn't go crunch
and I'm suffocating for a life time
dyeing in pain my feet a centimetre
off the floor. No I think that is the
wrong way to go.

I go through the cons and pros so many
ways to go, this is giving me a head ache,
my head feels like its going to explode,
its better to keep my feet on the floor.
To many errors to make, ill just go in
my own time, as it could be tomorrow,
really I should cherish my life and not
try to stop the beating of my heart,
what was I thinking as I go about my
life once more.

my mouth is closed, but you hear
every word that isnt said, no noise
just the quite that deafens you.

I hit you with out even touching,
you reel back unable to take the
hit your laid on the floor but with out
a fist or body contact it is your guilt
that knocks you back.

I walk away you chase after me with
words, but you dont move, as I move
further away your voice just an echo
now run out of breath, left behind.

I dont even look back to if your there,
you choose what you wanted and like
your voice I'm leaving you back there.

They speak to me each one
with there own plan, my
voice struggling to be heard.

Will I know after a while,
which is mine and which are
those that speak with there
own plan.

My mind vast, but will madness
sufficate me, these voices that are
heard whispering in the back of
my mind.

Will they let me be, or will I end up
with the madness that is slowly
consuming me.

My mind and the voices that
were once quite, seem to have it
in for me, unwanted voices I am
never alone, like a virus they are
consuming me.

I came across a fool today
hiding behind a profile
used for spite and hate
a pitiful soul
wrapped warmly
in unjustified ego
Words meant to hurt
did so, I fear
for his momentary satisfaction
a cunning smile twisted on his filth filled mouth
while the sun now threatens to leave my sky
it's light forever diminished.

You left under the cloak of night, again.
To return with your excuse as to why you are late.
What once was harmless, is now unfair, unjust, heartless.
Not on me or you, but her, the one that truly loves you.
I'm the harlot, the iniquity in your life, wickedness personified.
I remove your garments, deal with your hardness and
send you back to her, the promise you made to her broken.
I listen to your moans and return you whole to her.
I'm a social worker, a lover, a comfort, a *****.
You are a client, a bore, a job, a *****.
Our consciousness of what we do is monstrous, yet we do it over again.
I don't love you, you don't love me.
I'm a night deposit banking facility.
You drop off a deposit, leave, and go home.
What lies do you tell her?
Does she believe you?
Is paying for me cheaper than a divorce?
We both are heartless under the cover of darkness