Depths Of A Mad Mind: A Collections of Poems

Small One's Demise

Empty mind, vacant mind, silent lies

How did I get this way

Only a mere shadow of myself

And an empty shell of who I once was?

Demons, nightmares, plagues are frightening

But it nothing compared to what is inside the Mind

Cobwebs, verbal abuse, debris

And lies upon lies upon lies

Flittering fingers, dancing hands, trembling soul

Who am I to say that I am Right?

Who are they to say that they are Right?

Who is to say I am capable of Life?—No one

Weighted down body, slouched shoulders

Defeated, I truly am

A vibrant soul once danced in the in the morning dew

Whilst another Smaller One laughed with joy

The bliss radiated from her

Until she never grew, only strunk

She became smaller and smaller, as did her brain

The brilliant rose has wilted to a dull, hideous color

Yellow eyes, brittle hair, legs that can not lift, a life without a life

Who was I to say I can do this?

Who are They to say that I can do this?

I can not, I can not, I can not

It is foolish; a mockery

Once the cold sliver of the metal grazed against the Small One's skin

Years ago, She knew the end was near

She never stood a chance

Over and over, time and time she tried to reach her demise

Yet it never came—Never

Much to her great misfortune

Drugs, noose, vodka, harsh waters, fast cars, empty belly

No matter how hard the Small One tried, it never Worked

Body aching, mind racing, heart crushing

tired tired tired tired tired

Things will be different now

No one will see the Small One

As she curls on the floor

Blood coating her forearms, the cold ground

Body closing in on the plentiful medication

Slowly, painfully stopping her heart

It is what She—no I deserve

It is the Small One's End

I am sorry for the one's left behind

For this is not selfish, it is brave

Do I weep or mourn for me

What I am doing is not easy

It is not selfish, it is not selfish, it is not selfish

It is a favor