Ink drips down the ivory page,
Thick and black like the sorrow in my mind,
Almost like blood in its viscosity.
Have I said everything?
This is my last stand to the world,
The last piece to my story -
A final chapter.
Two pages to mom,
Two pages to dad,
Two pages to him
Explaining how he was my last (and first) love,
A page to a few others.
The last hours of my life are bittersweet,
Painful with depression
And other disorders of various kinds
Plaguing my desire to eat or live,
Topped off with uncurable stress,
But pleasant
Knowing that in a short while
It will be over.