Sunday, January 15, 2012

Like Suicide

With this knife in hand, I take a final breath,
And inhale into my lungs the smell of death,
Without much hesitation... and a searing will to try,
To plunge the blade and kill what needs to die,
I've replayed the scene a million times by now,
As a homicidal sweat ebbs at my brow,
Tonight it will be done, as it must be,
This pleasurable crime shall set me free.
I've tried to conjure ways to avoid this path,
But the fact remains I'm far too full of wrath,
Too long denied and toyed around too much,
That the time has come to stab to rest this crutch,
Sometimes the soul must die to be reborn,
Especially one as mine that's become so torn,
There will be no somber note to spell the end,
Know, that I will be much stronger, when I return again.
But for now, inevitably, its time to die,
As the ravens let out one last piercing cry,
Into my heart I plunge the blade so true,
Its like suicide, except the person dying... is you.

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