Good Night

Folder: 
Self harm/Suicide

5/22/11

These wounds quiver and groan with pain

Face pale from loss and trembling lips

Life slipping down until it coats bare toes

A stark contrast on glossy white tiles

Warm water tries but can't stop the chill

A wave of dizziness and nausea

Distraction from the pain

Mostly inconceivable betrayal

Folded legs to steady

Standing a bit too ambitious

Thoughts clouded with regrets

But none for this moment

The drain catches life and licks it up

Heavy eyelids consider eternal rest

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I hope this is a fictive

I hope this is a fictive poem.  Your long absence from postpoems makes me wonder . . . . Hope you come back.


Starward