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| Author |
Message |
brighn
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sometimes
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Sep 30 00:11 UTC 1999 |
Sometimes
Paul Kershaw
8/29 - 9/26/99
Sometimes:
I can feel the rope
Constricting
Biting
Cutting into my neck
The root of my tongue
Aching in my throat
Gasping for air
My eyes pound
As the pressure increases
But I want out, and this is the way
Sometimes:
I can feel the blade
A chill against my wrist
My neck
My chest
Lacerating to free the demons
Even as the blood begins to flow
Even as the skin stings from fresh wounds
The demons laugh louder
Louder
And louder still
Voices bursting inside my head
But I want out. This is the way.
Sometimes:
I can taste the salt on my tongue
Before it starts to burn
My stomach roiling
Rebelling
Demanding
Its complaints fall on deaf ears
The more it complains
The more I pour
I will still the agony
I will still the darkness
I will still the pain
The burning will subside
Though not before I've torn my skin
Tearing until it bleeds
Digging for the burning
But I want out. Isn't this the way?
Sometimes:
In the morning
I wake up
No rope
No knife
No poison
Only me
For a hushed moment
Only me
A smile - it all makes sense -
Before the pain seeps in again
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| 8 responses total. |
lumen
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response 1 of 8:
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Oct 1 00:02 UTC 1999 |
hmmmm... I think I may see the deeper meaning.
I'm not taking it at face value, of course, because the imagery isn't
all that new. But the philosophical and introspective connotations..
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arianna
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response 2 of 8:
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Oct 1 04:00 UTC 1999 |
whoa.
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lumen
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response 3 of 8:
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Oct 4 20:34 UTC 1999 |
I'm going to ask a blunt question-- does this have to do with BDSM?
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brighn
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response 4 of 8:
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Oct 5 13:53 UTC 1999 |
no, it has to do with suicide.
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