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Bloodstain
As she sits in the silence of her prolonging misery,
She gazes upon a blade she holds so close to her wanting flesh.
She ponders life,
Trying to find one last excuse to live,
But the only thing she finds is more so the reason to die.
Her conscious mind is no longer intact...
As the blade glides across her wrist with ease,
Her life begins to rush from her bleeding wound.
She smiles with delight,
For she has finally found an escape from the pain and agony life brings.
She'll no longer have worry about the constant struggles she has to go through to maintain normality.
As her breath grows shorter and her heart begins to fade,
She wonders if anyone will miss her or notice she is gone,
But it would make no difference to her...
She wont be here to witness it.
In her mind she came into this world with nothing,
And all she will leave behind,
Is a bloodstain.
This has emotion, no doubt, it fair overflows with it: try maybe distancing yourself from the subject, write of others, project, be the teller and not the maker.
i love this poem,, it has the darkness of poe, but seeing through the eyes of myself in a bad dream, and i do so enjoy a bad dream from time to time,,, had the poem been longer, i would have kept reading withought blinking an eye,, loved it