Make It End

Bloodstained fingers type the note,

Then they write another,

Putting them into damp envelopes,

The cuts won't heal,

Lonely nights, bruised heart and body aching,

Lying there, staring into space,

Half-formed thoughts flit like moths,

Depression has become as permanent and subconscious as breathing,

Blank eyes won't close,

Sleep will only burn you with nightmares,

Nightmares will only land you back in that shining white prison,

You have left your suicide note,

The one you wrote with bloodstained fingers,

And placed in envelopes, damp with your tears,

Now you stand, razor blade embedded in your veins,

I wish I'd listened to the words that you'd whispered to me,

Not assumed that you were joking,

My head pounds with the things you'd said to me,

Beautiful, Dangerous,

My mind flashes with images of you when I close my eyes,

I am blinded,

By my own stupidity,

How could I not notice your silent suffering,

When it was looking me right in the eye,

I am but a stupid, born-again-depressionist,

Playing an adult game.


The End

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