Kelly Seale (12-17-1958 / Norfolk, Va. USA)
You try to hold back the pain, but it consumes you
You ask yourself why, but the answers elude you
You feel worthless and broken, unspoken words cut right through you
You marvel at the knife, and the jagged edge of blood that spills on you
You know that the euphoric wave of pain will be gone in moments, tempting you
You wish you could cry, but the bitten lip reminds you
You Will Not Cry. You wish you’d die…Thinking,..He’d be sorry he didn’t choose you
You make another cut, this time deeper. He’d be sorry He ever met you
You don’t even care that the sheets are crimson stained, pain turned pleasure excites you
You drop the knife to the floor, someone’s knocking on the door…surprising you
You know it’s not Him, and nobody else knows you
You ignore the frantic knocks, and make the final cut…as death is here to greet you
You have one last thought, as you pass out from the loss of blood…What if it was Him?
He picks your limp body up in one scoop, heading for the door…
Your eyes focus blurry…and one word escapes your blue lips…
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