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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #1155425
a girl's last thoughts as she becomes a victim of death
Why am I here?
Why do I feel
so much pain?
Why can't I make
it stop?
I know I can
the only way I know
how.
As I guide the blade
across my skin,
I can no longer guess
how much time I have
to be so lonely.

To feel so much betrayal.
to remember my heartbreak,
and to know there will never
be another like him.
I cried so many tears
and gasped as the blade
cut my flesh.
I saw the rich,
dark red color spill
from my wound
as I sat back to witness
my last moments.

No longer will I see
the blue sky,
no longer will I ask
why.
I won't hear your voice,
you won't hear my talent
of song or see my smile.
You will no longer
feel my lips on yours.
I will no longer say
"I don't want to feel more
pain, why won't God take
me away?"
No longer will I cry
day after day.
I won't look at you
and wonder your
intentions.

As I take my last
breath,
I leave this behind.
My farewell,
my goodbye.
This note you read
the day I died.
© Copyright 2006 Heather Starlin (heat0678 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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