The Suicide Ride Will End

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just a poem about suicide--so in short, how I used to feel and how I still sometimes feel.

Submitted: May 08, 2012

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Submitted: May 08, 2012



The tools I need to pull it off
Are right at my fingertips
I could loop a rope around my neck
Or slip some pills between my lips

The ride won’t last forever
This ever fleeting high
That comes with the thought of joining
Others on this suicide ride

I could take a razor to my arms
Leave scars that ease away the pain
Those long pink lines of sadness
From which blood drips down like rain

These days move ever so slowly
The months pass by like years
This suicide ride may end soon
I’m in depression up to my ears

My fleeting life will stop
Like rain on a summer day
A quick bullet to the brain
Could be my only way

Whos said that life was easy?
And that all you need is love
Suicide rides are lonely
But those thoughts fit like a glove

Rape me, burn me, treat me like dirt
Tell me I’m a stupid piece of s***.
Tell me I’m a worthless lowlife
Not even good enough to hit

“Sticks and stones will break my bones,
But words will never hurt me”
You say that like it’s true
But on this ride, all words are heavy

Batter me, bruise me, beat me to death
My life no longer matters
In a world filled with regret

You say I had potential
You say my life was great
But then your words went and killed me
You were my tool to escape.

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