(WARNING: MORE DEPRESSING THAN OTHERS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)
Counting off the days on the calendar
You wait for the day of salvation
And once it's here you go to your drawer
Rustling around you pull out your ink well
And a small box
Inside lay a small dull blade
Pulling your sleeves up you severe your wrist
Deeper than ever before
The blood surfaces and you put your arm out
And over the empty ink well
And you let it drip inside
Several minutes go by and you get your quill
And a piece of parchment
Writing your farewell letter
You pull the quill across the paper
Writing it in your own blood
A cruel way to haunt the living
But why would they care
They caused this
Folding the letter and placing it on the bedside table
You then continue to follow your plan
Pulling out the butcher knife
You look at it as it reflects your tear stained face
Whispering your last goodbye you raise it
You raise it your exposed neck
And you slice it wide open
Just like a butcher would a pig
The knife clangs to the floor and you follow
Your blood pools around your breathless body
Never to be filled with life again
YOU ARE READING
From My Mind To Yours
PoetryWARNING DO NOT READ IF YOU BECOME EASILY SAD These are depressing poems. I advise you to not read them if you are young or your heart strings can be easily pulled.
