In the dark I wait
Is this my end?
I contemplate
I hold the knife
In my hand
It bends
Moving at my command
Alone I sit
Am I done?
I wonder
The pills shake
In my palm
I call for help
What do I do
When no one listens
What can I say
When no one sees
Is this my end?
Parhaps...
Perhaps, not yet.
YOU ARE READING
'Nevermore Than A Few Words'
Poetry"Dear god, make me a bird so I can fly, far far away from here." Jenny Curran
