I grabbed a knife
I placed it on my chest
anoyed of the words 'You are strong'
I ignored those words
I shut the phone down
and cried to get the pain out
Closed the door
Laid on the floor
With the Sharp knife on my hand
the blood around me
I painted a heart
although i always hated art.
Feeling cold
my last gasp
was frightening
As i could feel
how death took me for a ride
with no end.
XxXMillyXxX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem