Silly, isn't it?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Alright, this is very different from the last one I posted (The Every, Only Thing I Need).
It's very dark, about a suicidal person of some sort, during the actual suicide.
just toying with emotions here, please don't take it too seriously.
REMEMBER: this is NOT for the more delicate people!

Submitted: November 01, 2009

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Submitted: November 01, 2009

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At first, it’s cold.

Some of the open wounds are itching.

The large cut he gave this morning aches.

Silly, isn’t it?

Because with my eyes shut, I can pretend.

Pretend it’s a dream.

Imagine green fields and flowers around me.

Silly, isn’t it?

I ignore it. Like a child.

It hurts now, but I won’t open my eyes.

I don’t want to look.

Silly, isn’t it?

Something stabs my arm.

I scream, but it is a silent scream.

I open my eyes.

And face my worst nightmare.

Dark masses hover above me.

Silly, isn’t it?

I see different shades in the murky water.

They’re on my arms.

They’re ripping me apart.

Very silly, isn’t it?

I'll never have to look at you again


© Copyright 2017 Jossie Deveroux Tchaikovsky. All rights reserved.