Providence

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just thinking to much in class, I wrote this.

Submitted: September 25, 2009

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Submitted: September 25, 2009

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My writing will save me

I think.

But.

I can't think,

I can't feel,

I can't breath'

Know,Flow.

My god, Fuck,

Why can't I leave this place,

I hate this place

Broken, Insane, and Alone

I reach out, I grab, I grasp.

Flat, sharp, death.

I hold death in hand,

Silvery, shiny, razor blade.

I want to feel the night,

But not quite yet.

Hell No, Death whispers,

There is still more for you to see.

Fuck why,

I whisper.

Holding my arm up to death,

I offer it over.

Slashing, Cutting, Bleeding,

Ifelt, Something,

Finally.

The pain was almost instantaneous,

It ripped through me,

Pulling me into the world living.

A place I never asked to be.

But I didn't stay for long.

What would save me,

Who cares.

Darkness, spinnin, whirling,

Out of my control.

Nothing ever was.

The controlled will break free,

Providence broken.

But,

Then I think,

...Stars and Dreams

Stars are like dreams,

no matter

how hard you try

you will never reach them.

So,

I go

to my other arm

and

complete the process.

Ending this life,

For the

Dark next one.


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