I gaze into the mirror and see a beautiful suicide.
I pull a razor from my chest and smile.
Tears of joy fall from my eyes as I drag the dullness across the blue rivers.
Momma always said that breaking the skin was hard to do.
I look up and see liquid slander dripping down my cheek.
Give a swift hard slash, and there’s freedom at last.
I smear my blood on the walls of my depression.
I run a hot bath, slowly undress myself and climb into my grave.
My soul dying the water around me crimson.
I close my eyes, wipe the black lines off my face, only to leave red ones in their place.
Finally at peace, I grin.
Then die.