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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Suicide Notedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Ja Necro
    Elite Ratio:    0.01 - 0/2/1
    Words: 598
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 603
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3062



    Description:
       Any Feedback would be good

    Ja Necro


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsSuicide Notedots
    -------------------------------------------


    The definition of pain is the failure to act when you know you should. A failure to get out and be able to start existing. Depraved sexuality is the essence of our culture, and myself. Without it the entire system would collapse into itself, and the people would clamor the rooftops for more depravity. What is true love and is it found or made. I have the feeling but neglect to have the heart, rotten, black, hollow is the only way to describe my pain. I wish she was here, I don’t even know who she is, what she looks like. I thought I did but that ended in tragedy, both for myself and my lover. Where am I going, sailing deeper into an abyss of sorrows, I wish I could sing, I would shake the foundations of this concrete jungle with sweet sounds of remorse and loss. Broken is the recurring theme of my harrowed soul, why must I be alone to carry a torch that has long since run out of fuel and flame. Broken is the sound of collapse, Broken is the feeling of neverending loss. Broken by definition is myself in a state of complete breakdown. Where the hell am I? Living between one pill and another. This is not an existence, this is sorrow at its most primitive form. This is hell on earth and I am sitting right hand to the devil himself, holding his chalice of hate. I broods in me like a cauldron of lies, lies to myself, lies to her, lies over love, is this the way to go. I should end it all, strike myself down like Sodom, for the uncleanliness is hard to distinguish between us. Is there no end to this road, Is there no end to my soul, is it even real, where am I, this is not the world I was promised, This is not the life that was envisioned in utero, Break free from these shackles of pain and remorse only to cut the lifeline of oneself in hope of a greater something, The fear of a greater nothing is what keeps me in orbit through this miserable existence. This will be my last soliloquy, This will be my last stand,for on this day I stand alone on a shrine of lies, hate, fear, and tears. Tears have comforted me in the dark through a untold number of sleepless nights, This will be the end of it all, darkness permits only darkness and I willl slumber into it. Thank you to all that believed in me, even to this point of disparity, Thank you to all who tried to help it was of no avail, Thank you to her for showing me the burn factor of passion and the abrupt end that it brings. It is now my turn, the metal tastes funny as it penetrates the same orifice that has laughed, kissed and attempted to love. Life becomes at this moment ironic as I right with one hand and send the hammer back with the other. One Last irony, One last laugh, Goodbye my friends, Goodbye my family. One last laugh for all time.

    Billy 1981-2006
    Found in bedroom dead of a self inflicted gunshot wound
    Above document found on table next to deceased.
    Keyshia Cole: “Love” Playing repetitively on Stereo.
    Report compiled by ----------- County Sheriffs Dept.

    By: Ja Necro




    Submitted on 2006-02-24 12:12:52     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      It was truly captivating. It's words like these that you can truly lose yourself in. Although it is one of the more melencholy of pieces, it is one that will be positively etched into my mind.
    | Posted on 2006-02-24 00:00:00 | by Vile Deception | [ Reply to This ]
      i dont know what to say
    ineed you to please email me
    fordtruck1932@aol.com
    please i believe literature lasts forever and that was (im sad to say)
    literature and that letter could save so many lives so many poets lives who write in depression
    you inspire me please email me
    | Posted on 2006-02-24 00:00:00 | by 1949mercury | [ Reply to This ]

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

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