PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

So I rise to another day

my values keep changing till they slip away

so I lie here awake and stare

at the blade of no return



being happy is just an illusion

cause now I have no rememberance of the emotion

things will never get better no matter what i think

sometimes i think they will but its just an illusion.



i think I've got nothing - "what the heck"

when death draws you near like a lover you think paniac/fear

when deaths cloak touches the fragment of our world

things slowdown

things become clear

clearier than your own reflection in the blade.



the coolness of the blade I do not feel

its just a magic trick and youll just put me back together

goosebumps on the pallor of porcelian skin

and the pressure slips as the decision is soon to be made without contemplating the results

right now you are in no mood for equations

but steal grips steal

the twang as it hits the floor

for a minute seeing an illusion of blood trickling on the floor

the knife is sticky and drastic changes are going to be made.



But curling up in the corner I'm breathing

affirmative I'm whimpering, crouching in fear not of the blade

but my hands my own murdering wrath

so my head lowers and lolls, cradling sleep I slip away

on an higher extension, with fearful intentions I creep swiftly by

And I hold my breath as I dive under and here I wait for death to ask "why?"



Under thick murky black

So here I am a million miles away

theres no more sound of memories of how I lay

and why

in my own metaphorical satisfaction I think of others pain

of how it would be for a coward like me.

cause i hide here in the darkness and I dont want to know

Wanting to dream but not wanting to be there

So sorry death but imagination will grapple

but today I'm just not ready.