Die.
I yell and scream to be gone and not alive. I reach for help and get denied. I am torn asunder by those I trust. Heart in pieces left in the dust. Die I stare hard at the bottle as it rattles. I pray that my only bear will not tattle. I slip them slowly over my bleeding lips. My heart dips. It flips with relief and regret. Die I should have tried it yells. It's not to late tell I won't go to hell! I grab the phone and call for help. Help I yell. OK they tell Alive To live another life to live until the sand disappers Flittering to the bottom of the life glass. Alive because I never wanted to die.
1 Comment
gabriel
9/1/2015 11:36:50 pm
Good shit sis, I like poetry even got a couple of my own, a lot of deep thought, scars and healing went into that detailed and vibrant words good shit
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January 2016
CategoriesAll Artcopyblog.com Brenda Haroutunian |