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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
the sickening poem of death.

Submitted: October 20, 2011

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Submitted: October 20, 2011



I only wanted some serenity. I thought pain over my internal pain would help. It didn't. If I was upset, I dealt with it. But I am never happy. I am trapped in a sea of white, where at the bottom it is so bright I cannot see, and the surface of this icy liquid is blacker than night. That is where I fell in. Into the blackness. It suffocates you, then you sink into the water. As you go deeper, the water becomes lighter. So bright white you can't open your eyes, and the worst is yet to come! The further you sink the brighter it gets the ice is now fire it's so hot your skin is burning now engulfed in flames you scream but to no avail, the water is gone and the heat is eating your flesh melting your body you feel your blood boiling your bones snapping, jaw ripping, ears enclosing, nose dissolving, mouth covered with an alcohol drenched rag and then there is nothing. As you lie there in the black you still cannot open your eyes, your true eyes, but you feel something touching-no, feeling you, taking your clothes from your body, no escape can be made---you are being raped in this blackness, now your mouth is being invaded by a man...his private in your lower area, another in your mouth, you're paralyzed, your hand is now another tool for a man, and when you can open your eyes at last, a hole is forever pierced into your skull killing you, being thrown into a garbage bag, then into the garbage truck, then for conserving room the truck crushes all in its puny are now in oblivion, forced into...nothing.

© Copyright 2018 Emily Johnson. All rights reserved.

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