*WARNING, this this poem is very graphic, people sensitive towards suicide should leave now....*
I feel death inside of me
As if my soul can no longer see
I entered the kitchen for a knife
And prepared to take my own life
I sat down on a chair
I felt a breeze in my hair
I grew tired and frail
My skin looked sickly and pale
Is what I’m doing right
Why can I not see the light
I take one hand and make a fist
I take the other and prepare my wrist
I slash my vein
And experienced a rush of pain
I tried not to cry
As I fell to the ground and prepared to die
I lie there notion less
And there, forever I stay, motionless
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