The Shadows

Suicide

I wake up slowly,

Head aching,

Ears ringing,

Wounds linking warm red liquid.

Somthing about this

Makes me feel alive

Makes me feel human.

I run from the light

And into the shadows

Where my demons comfort me

Hold me close,

Becoming me.

I do not hide

from the thing under my bed,

I bleed for the monsters in my head.

This is not a poetic beautiful act.

It's a sonnet of despair

Of a dangerous doing.

Purifying the blade

With the blood of a victim,

Whom sadness has taken over.

Skin growing red

As the vine tightens around your neck

The tears streaking your face

Make it shine in the moonlight.

The leaf

On which you've written the love

Of everyone you knew,

Lays in your clenched fist.

The branch beneath your bare feet

Snaps under the weight

Of sadness and anger

Of not feeling worth it.

It leaves you hanging

By the vines of the berry tree.

Your neck is blood red

The demons grow silent in your head.

You're falling now,

Falling down,

Flames burning your back.

Falling down into the fires of hell.

No going back to the heavenly lands

That you thought of as hell.

Watching the light fade away

Into the waters that build in your eyes.

Watching everything you had

Cave into a hole of darkness

That you tried to escape.