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I slit my throat last night
Things hadn't been going right
I can't remember what i was thinking
Or what i had previously been drinking
But i knew my goal was to die
And i had numerous reasons why
I was not in a rational state of mind
And came the realization that life is never kind
So i picked up the cold steel blade
With hopes of bringing down my mental facade
On my neck i gentley slid the steel
Not yet cutting but still yerning for the painful feel
I took the knife up to a different place
And beared down hard and ripped a gash in my face
I brought the knife back down
Craving to swim in my own blood and drown
I again brought the knife back to my throat
And momentarily gazed at my suicide note
The liquid courage still running in my veins
I sliced through the first epidermal layers of pain
When i finally lacerated the jugular
The wound quickly became bloodier
Deep crimson rivers were rapidly flowing
As I looked down still conscious and knowing
I started choking on my own blood
And on the floor it had pooled and flood
Suddenly I dropped the knife
I fell to the floor finally losing my life
I looked around one last time as I lied
Then all was dark and I had died.
the poem is self explanatory, as for the picture i just quickly made it to go with the poem.
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Submitted on
October 15, 2003
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