Suicide Poem by Skylla Skellington

Tik tok tik tok,
I am sitting in a room,
Alone.
A blade in hand,
Wandering between fingers,
Caressing my skin,
Cherishing till the flesh blossoms.
Petals are forming, changing,
Enchanting.
And there is the sweet nectar,
Dripping slowly, lightly,
Red as ruby.
Leaving a trace on my hand,
Down my wrist.

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More and more red snakes,
Crawling on my arms.
More and more,
Until the skin fades away.
Nibbling but not biting,
Fondling but not beating,
Whispering but not screaming.
The longing,
The desire,
They are eating me alive.
And then the cold creeps along my spine,
Inch by inch,
Bit by bit.

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Time is slowing down,
Everything seems greyer and greyer.
Is something blurring my eyes?
Grinning,
Lying on the floor.
The ceiling is spinning, in a slow motion.
And now,
The snakes are gone,
Only tears are left.
Sparkling, shining,
Mumbling the secret of life,
The secret of death.
We are born to die.

Tik tok tik tok,
The clock is still running,
But I am half gone.
Angels are leaving,
Demons are coming,
Taking my soul away.
There is a shadow, but that is not Isis.
It is Kali.
It is the time.
The silence is eerie, yet peaceful.
The fire is turning into ice.
The body is vanishing into ash.
The floor is red,
And I throw myself into the darkest embrace.