My Poetry

Suicide

My papers are blanks now
My head is empty
But filled with the sound
Of the things only I can see
What am I supposed to do
When everything was spinning
I was screaming in front of you
And you turned away from me
You left me there, scared of myself
And you reached up to kill
Grabbing my blades from the shelf
Handing them to me, taking my will
I fall from me bed, blood pouring from my head
And closing my eyes, I wait to be dead.