Emotional Suicide
Murdered emotions sink deeper into oblivion.
Held captive in a tortured husk of defeat.
Their shadows wait patiently for my last fetid breath.
Then they may be released.
For suicide is close to me.
A silken whisper that glides among my thoughts.
A tiny shard with backwards barbs,
which rip the soul upon trying to evict it.
A deceitful promise of forgiven slumber,
within a pool of blood.
A quiet idea upon which I sit.
Icy tears chafe the skin of a hollow shell.
Leaving acrid scars, seen in my mirror.
My eyes behold my Hell.
Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2010
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