On The Count Of 1,2,3 - Poem by jesica reeder

too much pain to stay
too hard to make him go away
he promised deathful things and says stupid sayings
on the count of 1,2,3
popping pills and trippy words
all to make him go away
how shall i make me disapear
i shall hang myself, or play the game
i know ill go home soon
but too late ive done the job
i would say more but ive said too much
the pole is ready, the ladder is up
i would go up to make him stop
now my head is pounding and its grasp is clear
i try for breath but nothing comes
before i slip away
on the count of 1,2,3
i hear the final gasp and the final cry
he laughs as i go
he gets to me and pulls me slow
the ropes grip gets tighter and his goes firm
ive finially gotten to the end, my friend
i shall do what he says and die