Suicide

I have aboustly noooooo reason why I wrote this. I just found it in my Word. Lol. So thought I'd post it. I dunno still what it was made for.

Feel the slice.

The coolness touches your skin.

The heat of the cut.

Down your arm.

Like a crack, it splits.

The hot red liquid spills out.

You watch in horror for what you have done.

The liquid pumps out of the cut.

Life draining away before your eyes.

You see what you have done.

You try to stop it.

You can’t.

The decision is made.

Satan is already here.

You know you’ve screwed up.

You try to make it better.

But dear…it’s too late.

The last of your life is drained away.

The liquid is a pool around you.

Satan is here to take you.

Suicide.

Author's Note

Still, don't ask. I jsut found and thought I'd post it.

Reviews

[Emmie]

I really love this poem! You brought the anguish and the consequence to the writing. Fantastic!

[I'llPlayTheJuliet]

I think this was gewd.
and something many people have contimplated.. but you display it well, Regreting it alot of writers that write of sucicide dont write of regret ya dig?
hah.. good job :D