Killing Myself, SlowlyMature

Dedicated to a friend of mine who committed suicide a while back.

I sit.
I try to cry,
But there are no tears left anymore.

They left me,
I'm all alone,
I don't want to be, but I am.

I've tried, I really have.
For me there is no alternative course of action.
The steel against my palm is cold.

That when you're only messing around,
It seems to hurt more.

Dull, and throbbing,
The crimson liquid flows.
And I stare, mesmirised.


I drain.

It's dark.
Help me, please.
No, wait, I see light.

Mother Mary is coming closer.
Descending slowly,
Arms, reaching foward.

And I can't tell whether she's smiling or frowning.

The End

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