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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #1190423
A countdown to death

Always considered to be the bad seed,
No one there in my hour of need.
Consumed a bottle of sleeping pills one by one,
Never imagining I’d ever hurt anyone.

Pill one kicked in, and felt euphoric indeed
All I felt then was a bit drowsy
The second and third were harder to bear,
My hands became numb, and I wasn’t all there

With a tall glass of water, I took pills four and five,
Wondered how much longer that I’d be alive.
Six through ten left me feeling drained,
But I vowed to take every pill the bottle contained.

Eleven through fifteen I swallowed a bit later on,
My resilience to remain awake becoming less strong.
Out of water now, I headed for the kitchen sink,
After filling the glass, I took four more, now at nineteen.

A countdown to suicide, I swallowed pills twenty to twenty-four,
Could barely function as I made my way to the bedroom door.
Took the last six before I laid down on my bed,
The rest is history, for now I am dead.
A countdown to suicide, now I am dead.

A colorful sig
© Copyright 2006 SHERRI GIBSON (sherrigibson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1190423-COUNTDOWN-TO-SUICIDE