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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1266556
I wrote this while in a residential treatment facility. Happy, isn't it?
Ruby red
flows onto the ground,
I do not scream.
I make no sound.

In my world of red
I am safe.
I feel no hate, no pain
in this cold place.

I open a waterfall for each emotion,
the emptiness fills my head.
So eagerly I want to go
and I fall into my bed.

It’s going well,
but there is a flaw;
I am scared now
and I feel so small.

So I go deeper,
so falls more red,
and into my heart
there slips a dread.

It’s darker now,
is it just me?
My eminent death
is all I see.

But don't fear for me,
for my soul's fate.
You can't save me;
it is too late.

And so it ends,
so brave I've been,
to fight with Death,
and let Death win.

But now I don’t want this,
into myself I try to hide.
So cowardly it comes...
My Heroic Suicide. 
 
© Copyright 2007 Gabrielle (iamanelvenbard at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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