when it gets to the point
where my body is numb,
and the only thing I can hear it the beat of their dyeing heart,
when the pain is so strong
I can't scream,
as I fall to my knees
the only thing I can see is the blood rushing out of my open wounds.
I can smell the rotting flesh of hate,
when it gets to the point I know I need help
but I am unable to reach it
and I try to crawl to them
like a broken doll with a spin of string
as people turn their back to me,
I know it's to the point where no one can help me
where I can't even help myself
and where theres only one thing left
so as I write this know that I was to the point
suicide |
Submission Name: On Point
