Poetry

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This thing I wish to throw,
This ache I wish to kill… is me…
is my pride, is my style
is my thoughts, is my words
is my shadows, is my life.
Everything in me I wish to never be,
every thoughtless action,
every mindless riot… I wish were never apart.

Erase the classic stain,
erase my senses; for they do me no good…
Soaked in my memories & chained to my heart strings,
my blood has become to heavy to carry.
And now I’m on my back with tears cutting my wrist,
wondering when deaths sting will start to hurt.
And it is at this point, at this time that I begin to dare to think… dare to try…
to breathe in & take my final jump.

To end all of me & start life with a new name.


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