I wish I could leave this world
in a blur of beauty:
red paint like blood
slashed across a canvas
white as porcelain skin.
There is something
in the terror of pure destruction
that appeals to me.
The scene of my suicide
will be my masterpiece,
a parting gift to the world
that gave me too little,
a chance to make things right.
Everything will be right
in the end
because I will see
the beauty.