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"I'm tired," I said, I tried to walk, but I stumbled on my foot, I stand and tried to run away, "faster, faster," I command my legs; but no, not an inch did I move. once again I fell, "Please," I begged, "it's coming after me." I drift into sleep. darkness: swallowing me. I tried to fight the unconsciousness. then, I opened my eyes, I see the light: my escape, my final destination. I tried to focus, but slowly, it is closing slowly. half crawled, half walked, I made it to the light. I entered. my eyes are blinded, by the reflection of the light, in so many shards of blade and glass. I cried, "At last," I just have to find it. I closed my eyes, I felt it. sitting dead in the center. waiting for me: the answer. I fingered it, I am pricked. the sight of blood made me jump, I picked it up, and utter the last of my words, "Alas, my sweet the end!" with all my strength I pushed it. tears streaming; blood dripping; knees fell on the floor; blade made it's way to the bone. body and blade in contact, both cold now and lifeless. my body and my blade, have already served their purpose.
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Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 3:03 AM UTC
My Sweet End
"I'm tired," I said, I tried to walk, but I stumbled on my foot, I stand and tried to run away, "faster, faster," I command my legs; but no, not an inch did I move. once again I fell, "Please," I begged, "it's coming after me." I drift into sleep. darkness: swallowing me. I tried to fight the unconsciousness. then, I opened my eyes, I see the light: my escape, my final destination. I tried to focus, but slowly, it is closing slowly. half crawled, half walked, I made it to the light. I entered. my eyes are blinded, by the reflection of the light, in so many shards of blade and glass. I cried, "At last," I just have to find it. I closed my eyes, I felt it. sitting dead in the center. waiting for me: the answer. I fingered it, I am pricked. the sight of blood made me jump, I picked it up, and utter the last of my words, "Alas, my sweet the end!" with all my strength I pushed it. tears streaming; blood dripping; knees fell on the floor; blade made it's way to the bone. body and blade in contact, both cold now and lifeless. my body and my blade, have already served their purpose.
#suicide#poem#poetry#depression
Written by
jielyn-cerlette-lopez
28/Bigender/Philippines
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 3:03 AM UTC
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