Treasure Island

Morgan Siegel

(27/06/1996 / New Zealand)

As Long As It Takes


...I stand above, not that far...

I step down, my eyes gone crimson.
I crash to the floor, my tears creating a puddle.
My hands begin to quiver, unable to control...

...Wet, salty tears, enough to drown in...

I have no one, I am alone, and I am tired.
I have done so much harm, but it is like I cannot stop.
This is my resolution...

...It is no question, my rope is thinning...

I slowly gather myself, and lurch to my feet.
Cannot focus properly, I slump down to the floor.
Trying to regain myself, through my rushing tears...

...The die has been cast... waiting for the verdict...

I feel my heart... still beating away.
I wipe away my tears and get up.
Taking a deep breath, I stand strong...

...The roll completed, the face number... Four...

I slowly step back up, I grab onto it.
Fit my head through, and tighten.
I kick the chair away...

...'Number Four, the Asian homonym for... Death'...

'The Lord has forgiveness, but not for you my son, I am sorry.'

Submitted: Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 25, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Part 4, of the Self-Destruction series

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