PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

She is forever fighting her demons.
They come out of hiding and dance
With her mind and consume her soul.
She wants to get rid of them but even
With the proper dosage of medication it only does so much.
She still has her demons mocking her.
They taunt her telling her that her life isn't worth living.
As hard as she tries she can't stop the voice in her mind telling her to end it.
Her devils feed off of her pain and suffering.
She can hear them laughing at her. 
They have her heart and soul chained.
She tries to break free. 
She yells and cries for help.
Yet her pleas go unheard by those around her.
She ponders if death would be an easy
escape from her personal hell.
She feels as if she can't fight anymore.
The demons in her mind and soul
start chanting to just do it.

The voice in her mind starts sounding like a broken record.

End it now because no one will notice that you are gone nor will they care.
They remind her that she won't have to wear a mask anymore, she won't have to fake her smiles and laughter.
All of it will be over and she will finally be free. 
As much as she doesn't want to she feels
that is the only way to escape her own personal hell and she will stop being a burden on those around her.
She knows deep down no one would care that she was gone, nor would they miss her. 
She takes the new razor blade out of its package.
She looks at with tears filling up in her eyes.
She knows she is making the right choice. 
Slowly she starts cutting at her veins.
The pain is nothing to what she feels inside.
As she watches the blood run out of her veins she starts
Feeling the peace she had been looking for.
The pain inside of her is slowly leaving as she watches the blood draining from her wrist.
A brief thought of its not too late to stop the bleeding.
But she is at the point that she doesn't care anymore.
Why should she?

Why she would want to live?

Why would she want to stop the bleeding when all of her pain that she has carried around for so long is now making a pool on the floor?
No one would notice she was gone.
The only good thing of it would be she would be
out of her own hell.
And the demons couldn't bother her anymore.
They would finally be gone.

She would be free from all pain.

Maybe through death she could find the peace that
she could never find before.
Her tormented soul would be free forever from all things and her demons will be gone. 
With that she watches the razor blade disappear into the puddle of blood on the floor. 
A real smile finally comes across her face as she feels herself leaving this cold world and cruel world.
She is at peace for the first time in her life and she is finally free of the things that kept her bound.
She is free of everything.

Worthless, a word with common speak interlaced,

Describes me so well in a fashion so perfect.

I have no meaning, no use, no love or place;

I want to be displaced; from life be erased.

So come and end me, come slit my throat;

Come suffocate me, and watch me choke.

Don't hesitate, I wanna prolong this pain;

Have no mercy, just play it like a game.

Tie my arms, my feet, restrain and throw me;

Into a tank of boiling tar you'll force me.

Scattered inside are razors so gleaming;

So pleasing is that music of me screaming.

Take serrated blades, rip my wrists apart;

Carve out my eyes, like the hopes in my heart.

Drain my blood, drink it like a fucking wine;

So sweet, delicious; it's the end of my time.

Rip out my fucking heart and tear it apart,

There's no love left in me to give anyways.

Carve out my chest cavity, it's divine art;

Hollow me, use me like a fucking ashtray.

Hold down my hands, tear off my fingernails;

Hang them as bloody ornaments so pleasing.

Screaming agonized joy, my heart now fails;

Just kill me now, this wish so diseasing.

So take a hammer, smash in my worthless face;

Stomp on my remains, now but a disgrace.

Digest my flesh, make me part of your soul;

Feel my corpse, touch the walls of my skull.

Lock me in a chair, force my eyes open wide,

Make me witness the horrors of real genocide.

My screaming only intensifies this pain;

On the floor is a growing red bloodstain.

Take my corpse, throw it in the sea's midst,

With anchors tied tightly to my rotten chest.

Let not one piece or memory of me remain,

So I'll be forgotten and all will be the same.

I don't care how, just please end me quickly;

You know, there's a reason for my death plea.

I'm sick of hurting others, sick of being me,

Sick of being the one to cause all the misery.

It's not that I would normally wish to die,

But at this point I can now seem to find,

I've brought this unto myself, can't deny,

So please kill me before I change my mind.