Fatal Cut
I sit here thinking that this is the last thing ill write in my life. But is this all worth it.
Is it too late? I did it, I made that cut. I took those pills. And now my life is spilled
out on the floor. I sit here holding that cloth over that cut, I’m tying to get it to stop
bleeding, I would look but I scared to see the damage that I did. As I grow fainter
and lighter I’ll know that I did the damage that I wanted to do. Its only time now
before we know. The cloth now is getting heaver with blood and my head is
getting a taste of the codeine. The key are now spotted with the blood from the
tips of my fingers. I’m now alone in this house. No one to claim me in till the
morning. By then I’d have sent out that warning. I’m now feeling faint and week,
dizzy and lost and confused. I’m scared, what have I done? I feel as if death has
won. The blood is running down my leg from that cloth that covered it up. I’m
going to go wash it now in the tub. So in till we meet again.
Copyright © Jarryd Lapp | Year Posted 2005
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment