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Dead Woman

Poetry By: LizLew
Poetry


This isjust what can happen if you let the voices whisper to you too much.


Submitted:Dec 11, 2011    Reads: 10    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   


Kill yourself, I hear them all whisper,
Just do it, they encourage me.
I fight the thoughts, but they still remain,
I'm a Dead Woman who walks through the streets.
What is your use? The others whisper,
I listen to them a bit more intently, but ignore them again.
They stare at me as I pass them,
I'm a Dead Woman who walks through the streets.
Shadows follow where my footsteps should be,
The rain drags me forward, showing the way.
More whispers, louder this time,
I'm a Dead Woman walking through the streets.
My stride is slower as the whispers grow to a chant,
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it.
More stares, more laughs, more fingers pointing,
I'm a Dead Woman gliding through the streets.
The chant grows to yell, it's my only thought,
JUST DIE! YOU'RE USELESS! YOU ONLY HURT THOSE YOU LOVE!
I stop my stride as I realize the truth again,
YOU'RE A DEAD WOMAN WHO SHOULDN'T BE WALKING THE STREET!
I fall to the ground, and curl into a ball,
Hugging my head, begging for the voices to stop.
DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE,
I'm a Dead Woman crawling through the street.
The voices are screaming at me, and a knife appears,
I grip it tightly, and the voices all cheer.
By passers watch me slit and only judge me,
I'm a Dead Woman curled in the street.
My blood flows, and with its release, the voices leave,
And I sit there, unable to move from my painful position.
My blood starts to drown me, and I start fading into black,
I'm a Dead Woman, lying cold in the street.





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