Afterthoughts

The cold metal on his head

The sharp press on his wrist

The dry swallow of the pills

The rope hanging from the rafters

A loud bang in the night of another lost life

A soft give of the skin and a gush of warm blood

A blurring of tired eyes and a whisper of good-bye

A soft gag of the throat and a soft snap of the neck

Eight seconds of life left before the incoming death

I wonder what his last thoughts will be

Will the last seconds be of regret and pain

Or a morbid relief to be leaving

Will he wonder if they'll miss him

Or hope they know they caused all this

Will he wonder is I go one without him

Or know that I'll be joining him