one...two...
drip...drip...
the blood flows from my cut
i moan at the pain
the stregnth of pain feels...relaxing
it takes away the ache
that fills my chest
throbbing fills my body
pain consumes me
tears flow gingerly from my pale face
twist and turn
this noose as tight as can be
notted tight so i can never get loose
quick
easy
ainless
is how my death should come to me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem