Another day dawns,
Just like yesterday.
I squint my eyes into the light
Then roll over,
My face to the wall.
Why did they build my bedroom
To face east,
So each day dawning
Wakes me from my stupor?
My eyes burn
As I study my wrist.
If I had a knife,
A sharp knife,
I'd embed the tip
At the line
Where palm and wrist meet.
The blood would well up
As the purple and blue
Arteries and veins
Severed.
The knife would slide
To my elbow,
The blood spilling
Red-
Erupting rhythmically
To the excited tempo of my heart,
Slowly fading
As time for me
Ceased.
More blood would flow,
Smoothly spreading
From my arm,
Seeping onto my white bedspread
Until the puddle
Stained my mattress.
If only I had the energy
To find a knife.
by kimberley and those who know my work these r but emotions and i have no intension of actually doing n e of this
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