THOUGHTS

This poem might not be beautiful, it may not make sense, it may be confusing but to me it makes sense. This poem is dedicated to those who ended their own lives because of the mental torture caused by the pressure and abuse my society, family and friends.

For those reading, which is not a lot, I need you to know that I Love you and that I will always be there to support you in your difficult times.

~ The Poem ~

Her thoughts her thoughts
They were slowly wrecking havoc within her delicate mind , poisoning her from the inside out
killing her, slowly but steadily

She heard it calling it's call echoing throughout her delicate poisoned and broken mind.
slowly she realized what it wanted

It wanted her NOT HER but her soul, her happiness, her life.
To powerless and weak to fight against it's demands she floundered and agreed to listen.

She climbed into a warm bath.
The warm water was fighting a hopeless war against her stone cold skin.
However her salvation was in her hand and the thought of the destruction that it will bring was inviting happiness into her heart.

The thought of death made her feel this beautiful and happy sensation that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Slowly but steadily she used her remaining power to slit her delicate wrists.
The blood poured into the bathtub, fighting for dominance over the water.
The Hauntingly odor of death was eased by the smell of burning candles and bath oils.

As she lost her power, sight and strength
she breathed her last and entered a period of eternal sleep, silence and peace.

BUT

Unbeknownst to this delicate beauty a life was growing within her, when she ended her own painful and unhappy life.

by Wehan3