I might as well teach myself something useful
And learn to love to hate you well
Then wait to kill you with broken hands
And I wonder, what's a better death?
And can I watch your face
As I kill myself in front of you?
Have my screams run through your veins
The only way to make you not forget me
My blood is on your hands.
There was a time forgetting was better
Now it's more satisfying to watch
Myself die in your sight.
All pain and no hope or forgiveness. That's a recipe for suicide alright, I'd say. Strong (almost too strong) poem.
Yes! that is exactly what happens, whether you do it within sight or not. Suicide's rickochete goes a long long way. That is why, it is braver to stay. Good flowing piece. But I'm not rating it. Tai
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh, this is so violent, painful and beautifully written, you were able to put all those feelings into this poem! Great! Elya Thorn