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...
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
we can think it,but never try
we can think it,but never try it
what purpose would it solve
ron parrish
I know...
I know...
"Dont judge me by my past, i dont live there anymor
my pleasure
my pleasure
ron parrish