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Good Night
Folder:
Self harm/Suicide 5/22/11
These wounds quiver and groan with pain
Face pale from loss and trembling lips
Life slipping down until it coats bare toes
A stark contrast on glossy white tiles
Warm water tries but can't stop the chill
A wave of dizziness and nausea
Distraction from the pain
Mostly inconceivable betrayal
Folded legs to steady
Standing a bit too ambitious
Thoughts clouded with regrets
But none for this moment
The drain catches life and licks it up
Heavy eyelids consider eternal rest
I hope this is a fictive
I hope this is a fictive poem. Your long absence from postpoems makes me wonder . . . . Hope you come back.
Starward