A Short Story About Killing Myself Poem by Christopher's Dead
A Short Story About Killing Myself
Seen the cut surrounded by dry blood. Must have irritated it through the crashing all around me. Wipe it dry, clean, but where’s the fun in that. Avoid exacerbation yet still suffer in excess.
Why not make the pain, the sorrow poor out, hopefully there won’t be anything left inside. Gripping tightly, stab the wound over my heart back open; rip back quickly to greater irritate the skin.
And watch the blood poor forth, slowly; and watch as it runs off the skin into the cracks and crevices of joints and muscle, fold of skin, like a stream lips over a bed of rocks on the shallow ground. But wish it was more like a waterfall, crashing, deafening sounds if you get close enough.
Now sit back, feel the pain overcoming; not a pain from the wound, but a pain from inside. As all muscles tense, the body becomes rigid. Somewhere inside, stomach churns, as it sweetly burns throughout, as the heart let blood free out of veins and arteries. It becomes warm, yet hurts like a sore from overwork.
And blink once, twice, not sure what’s happening now. All light in the visible spectrum of the eye disappearing as the contrast greatens: all darks become darker, all lights become lighter. And until these all blur, it’s not black, but it is surely the absence of all color.
Fear I may have made a mistake. And hearing too. The sounds so crisp before grow higher and higher to their piercing frequency of which my ears cannot comprehend. Now lost, just a muffled drone; even my own voice has lost volume.
Yet I knew the answer all along and avoid it, just let this of what I could not have foreseen overcome me in my grief. This isn’t what I wanted, not what anyone wanted.
PLEASE DON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES. DO NOT KILL YOURSELF. EVEN WHEN I AM GONE, I’LL KNOW I MADE THE WRONG CHOICE.
its a very good message. some people are just to far gone in there pain they dont think about what there doing and when someone think that death will solve it all its a sad day cause they don't understand that they may end there own pain but there just opening up a new book of pain for those that loved and cared for them they forget the people that stayed by there side when they were down and tried to pick them back up.those people are going to live the rest of there life thinking. why could i stop them? was i not a good enough reason for them to stay? .. its sad and holds the truth but it is also telling someone not to give up and try to keep going that death will not solve your problem and its always be a mistake to give up your life.
wow this has a good structure and a great message behing it.
though the pain of your skin being torn open may help you from hide what your feeling inside, those outside wounds will heal, and you'll delve for more, more pain to mask the pain, and then everyone will see your pain, carved into your skin, your diary etched into your picture till the day you die
I love it so much and I think am going to perform it next week as a monologue🇿🇦❤
wow... VERY strong. Great imagery. A little scary how good this is lol. Good writing :)
This is really amazing. Very descriptive and vivid. Thanks for telling me to reead it
i know what this feels like, ive went through it... and this is like sum of my poems.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:10:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
a different theme...very strong in tone and has a good message embedded in it