Suicide Note
my hand shaking,
my lips trembling,
I wrote the last four words
and put a period at the end
I felt it was the end
As I stared at the dull brown paper
I felt my face staring back at me
The rejected gaze, the ugliness,
and it hurt me miserably
And I ripped out the page
and I tore up that poem I wrote
because if it wasn't in pieces
I knew it would be my suicide note
And stumbling, bawling,
almost crawling,
I floated to the trashcan
and threw it away;
the words I wrote hurdling
and swirling like a tornado
The beautifully bittersweet words
it had hurt so much to say
And I felt liberated
but confused
My heart fluttering,
I searched frantically
and met his eyes:
so dark and smooth
They seemed aware but unaware
of the brush I felt with death
Because
I have the power to murder me,
my eyes met his and stayed-
unwilling and afraid to move
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BOB
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Posted on 01/23/2008 at 9:01:51 AM
Mike Sutherland
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Posted on 01/05/2008 at 1:01:43 PM