And So My Blood Dries

And Then They Bled

So we sit, you and I,

you in my hand, me baked and high,

your sharp edge a crimson tint,

and me incapable of taking the hint.

My eyes glare into the bright light,

even though the room is dark as night,

the floor is wet and slick,

and my stomach feels nauseous and sick.

A light flicks on and there's a scream,

I am torn from my beautiful dream,

around me is a pool of red,

and I realize I'm soon to be dead.

Run to my side, hand to the wound,

but its to late, I am indeed doomed,

so I laugh one last time,

an evil and melodic sound that soon turns to slime.

My soul is damned, so the preacher says,

my soul is freed, so says my ways,

and so I release my holds in this existence,

and I shall offer up no resistance.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The basic Suicide Poem. I was just bored, and wondered what someone would think of on their death bed.

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