It really is beautiful on this night
The sky is clear, the wind is refreshing
And a dead man is writing poetry
Well not exactly poetry, and he's not exactly dead
More so dead inside, expressing his feelings
Of which he has many, sometimes too much
He really is the wonder of humanity
Essentially removed from all thoughts of living
He exists purely as a matter of fact
But he's not depressed or sad even
He's accepted this, a dead man walking.

She keeps her feelings tucked away,
Like her hair, behind her ear, before a kiss,
It sometimes comes undone, but it only makes her more beautiful,
As if such a thing was even possible .
Nothing is more reassuring than her presence,
Nothing more rewarding than her smile,
She smells like the earth after rain,
Ironic, her eyes gleam like lightning in a quiet storm.
She is all that is good in this world,
She soothes your soul with just one word,
Like a cool autumn breeze she relaxes you,
Her hugs, the definition of kindness, the embrace of an angel.
Her raven color hair absorbs all light,
That then shines from her heart,
She lives within your dreams,
Because that’s the only place you’re not alone.

Abuse of the flower comes as no surprise,
It’s easy to take for granted,
Something so appealing to your eyes.

Bubbles float to the top, perfect crystal spheres
Crushing blackness swallows me whole, nothing to see or hear
I know you’re wondering how I ended up in this deep despair
You see, dying a silent death was never really something to fear
It’s 3:30 am & I’m alone, riding my bike along the seaside
Stars shining brightly in this cloudless night, nowhere for them to hide
Glistening wet sand, being swiftly left behind
The lack of noise, perfect for my cluttered mind
One step closer to the end , and I no longer feel my heartbeat
Cold, wet, sand wrapping around every inch of my feet
No one needed to tell me that the water would be deep
Tears mixing with the ocean, it’s now the water’s secret to keep
Falling deeper, losing consciousness, letting the current carry me
The darkness is beautiful,so soothing when there’s nothing to see
This is it to me, but you maybe thinking this can’t be
But this is exactly what you think it is, this is suicidal poetry

Rain down, celebrate my inadequacy
Small strips of my torn down legacy
Colors of my blood, sweat and tears
That have all accumulated through the years
Stick to my skin, cover me whole
Sink through your skin, take control
Cover the floor, cover the wall, it’s all I see
Your reward for destroying me
Is all this confetti.