Dark Dreams and Happy Minds

A Note, A Knife

She wants to die and not to live.

The pain is too much. She slices her wrist.

A towel stained red with pain of the past. A note neatly written in blood of the last.

"I cannot do this. It is too hard. The pain and the lies and the sorrows at heart.

When I die I take a little of you with me. I'll lock it up safe. Now won't that be nifty?"

Now she lays as though in slumber. Her hair a halo about her face.

Her eyes are open. They stare into space.

And on her lips, a little smile in place.

She is happy she thwarted life's greater plan. Took fate into her own hands.

But those left behind. They have to deal with her death.

No amount of tears could ever bring her home.

No screaming, no shouting will ever bring her back.

People attend to see her face. And in the coffin there it lays.

Those still alive hate that she's past.

All they want is to have her back.

They would have done anything to make her better. Anything to not read that letter.

But she wanted to die and not to live.

And drained her blood from

her wrists.