I wished..

I smell sadness, disappointment, desperation,
as i rapidly losing air to breathe,
while my minds c0rrupted by dem0ns.
On the ground,
confused of what have i become,
but yet a smirk on my lips saying,
"lo0k what ive d0ne."

Blood rushing through every slit on the wrist,
as i savor the flavor of poison on my lips.
Eyes get heavy but n0 tears flows through my cheeks,
suddenly,i feel my heart starts to skip a beat.

And that very m0ment i wished..

I DIED...

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allets's picture

Death Experiences

I imagine this poem written by one who had aheart attack and was revived. Near death is not poison and slitting wrists - real death is leaping from a hundred foot cliff onto ragged reefs. Real death is 89 year's old and doing whatever it is addicts do with crack. Death is easy. Living, not so much. - Still, living bests dying or death. Death is pretty permanent and life just a stroll along this plane for a heartbeat or two. You can always die later. :D slc


 

 

word_man's picture

we can think it,but never try

we can think it,but never try it

what purpose would it solve


ron parrish

i_Am_GraziE's picture

I know...

I know...


"Dont judge me by my past, i dont live there anymor

word_man's picture

my pleasure

my pleasure


ron parrish