the room of suicide

Alone in a cold and empty room,
Sitting in silence on the icy chambered floor,
The fog of darkness starting beneath the scratched door,
Bleeding pity from my eyes,
In my hand the knife it lies,
Back and forth I begin to rock,
Slowly whispers begin to talk,
Suicides words lingering at my ears,
Putting aside my troubled fears,
Cutting deep I begin to do,
Looking at my reflection softly saying I contemn you,
All over my arms the blood it pours,
Suicides words screaming more,
So up to my neck I begin to go,
Hearing suicides dirge very very slow,
Slices lie beneath my hair,
Buried into my neck,
I try to make a circle,
Slowly running out of breath,
Having dubiety about deaths slip,
Dire awakens inside,
I have seemed to of escaped the room of suicide.

Sitting on the deck above the lake,
The water growing with my tears of hate,
Looking at my reflection….
Deep into my scissored eyes
I keep on saying I want to die,
Once again I start to hear suicides words tickling my ears,
The tall trees that tower around,
Softly saying inside I know you want to drown,
Only hearing my footsteps on the graveled rocks,
Listening to suicides screech it’s talk,
My foot meets the water,
Then coldness wraps around,
Suddenly hearing laughing’s evil sound,
Then I come to see the lake is anhydrous,
Not containing any water, but replacing it with darkness,
Ripping out my guts and heart,
I quickly feel the sharpness,
While bleeding….Darkness in I breathe,
Slowly starts to suffocate me,
I solicit about death’s slip,
Feeling peculiar inside,
I have seemed to of escaped the room of suicide