My death was quite quick. Even painless.

My death was quite quick,
Even painless, you see.
Let me tell you about it
so I may go free.

It started one day
with a wet morning dew.
I saw a sharp knife
so shiny. So new.

At first, it felt good
to cut through my own flesh,
But soon the small pain
grew to fresh.

But on I cut,
the gash still fare.
The smell of blood
lingered in the air.

I could take the great pain,
But my body could not.
And soon my mind
began to grow hot.

I started to hallucinate,
a dog with a dart.
I fell to the floor
and the knife stabbed my heart.

So, there, my friend,
is my pathetic tale
of how my short life
was not 'saved by the bell'.


Submitted: February 28, 2012

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lovepoetryandbooks

Loved it. You described a death with suicide. Tell me if you write anything else.

Tue, February 28th, 2012 9:56pm

Author
Reply

Thank you!

Wed, February 29th, 2012 9:18am

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Short Story / Literary Fiction