Gone.

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Wrists so delicate.


 


For it is not their fault.


 


They are just in the way.


 


A thick metal blade promises to take the pain away.


 


The bathtub goes drip.


 


The compressing pain in my chest goes ha.


 


The countless voices, and thoughts in my head go hurry up.


 


Just go.


 


I wish I could.


 


I tell you how.


 


I tell you why.


 


I ask for help.


 


You say no.


 


You say it's too much.


 


Like your the one.


 


Like your the one going through it.


 


Like I feel nothing.


 


I need your help.


 


I need your love.


 


I need you.


 


But you say no.


 


The metal stings at first touch.


 


I tell myself it doesn't hurt.


 


I push deeper.


 


I'm filled with relief.


It becomes a game.


 


Touch.


 


Push.


 


Drag.


 


Touch. Push. Drag.


 


Touchpushdrag.


 


The water slowly turns red.


 


I wait.


 


And I wait.


 


And I wait.


 


I feel the blackness coming.


 


It engulfs me.


 


It engulfs my mind.


 


And then.


 


And then.


 


And then.


 


I'm gone.


 

Created: Feb 07, 2011

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