I opens my eyes for the last time, and i quickly grab for the razor blade.
I force the sharp blade against my wrist.
I start slitting my veins, deeper and deeper into my flesh.
The dark blood pours out more and more onto the floor all over.
Feeling weaker and weaker, becoming more and more unconscious by the second,
the blade drops from my hand onto the cold floor, my final resting place.
My cold body now collapses to the floor and I slowly begin to feel the pain fade away along with my soul, finally falling into an endless sleep.
I lay there dead, yet free of pain.
It is now quiet, no screams, no tears, no suffering, just utter silence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Typo: open don't burden others with the details of your suicide, further more don't burden yourself with such an weight, just let time heal and let this phase pass gently by, and don't forget to share your thoughts before it's to late