Suicide

Suicide

A Poem by Kristin

9 lives is not enough

For the thousands of times I killed myself.

Every word I wrote

Is another pill i took

Every space left

burns my throat a little more

I’m killing myself

As we speak

But my blade

Is a pen

And each word a stab

With each sentence I die a little more

Each piece finished

Kills me off again

Who knows how many pages it’ll be

‘til I’m done for good

This may as well be my last bre   

© 2013 Kristin


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Reviews

Good write.Very well done.


Posted 10 Years Ago


I like how you ended this. Swell.

Posted 10 Years Ago


Hypocritical as it sounds; I've never been quite fond of teenage poetry. I find the rantings nothing short of mere just that: mere ramblings attempting to pinpoint the problem in which there is none, and the experiments to discover what their 'true calling' is.
Yours... Drips with anticipation. Each word, every action carefully plotted out to converse the emotions you never spoke, the breaths wasted to fix unsolvable equations. And, to be entirely honest, the ending made me breathe a sigh of discomfort.
I love this. I love your poetry.
Nice work, well done; and namaste.~

Posted 10 Years Ago


well this is unique. i like how you ended it unfinished to drive the point home. each word a writer writes is killing them a little bit more. suicide. interesting :)

Posted 10 Years Ago



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328 Views
4 Reviews
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Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on May 21, 2013
Last Updated on May 21, 2013
Tags: love, death, suicide, break, die, pen, blade, kill, burn, life, breath, poem, prose, poetry, writing, stained, blank

Author

Kristin
Kristin

Atlanta, GA



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