TP ( / )

The End

Slowly, the blade toward my hand
Hope less pain
Make this end
Hope it might help
Save me from myself
Closer still
Moving toward the end
It presses to the skin
Cold as it is
I feel my pain ease
I press down
Slide it over
And it’s done
I sit and wait
Let myself bleed
So here I sit
Waiting for the end

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 3

Comments (3)

this poem is sooo amazing that i even like it. good job and keep the good work.
WOW! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! If romance has died, you just resussitated it. BRAVO! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Very well done. Thank you.