My blood spurted like a fountain
from my veins
I could feel my life,
being ripped from my body.
The relief I felt
was more than a pleasurable thought,
it was a scary reality.
No more pain
would I have to suffer.
I would soon be at peace,
to wallow in the sorrow
of those who had already gone
to where I was now going.
The slashes on my wrists
were my ticket to this land.
I hadn’t paid for my ticket,
it had already been bought.
By the man I trusted
with everything…
even my life.
We had argued and fought,
until he picked up the pen
and wrote the note
that said goodbye to all my friends
He picked up the blade
and grabbed at my wrists.
I pleaded for him to stop!
Why? he questioned.. Why not?
But my pleas came too late.
The silver of the razor
was already turning red,
as the blade sunk deeper
into my skin.
I expected to feel pain
but relief was all I felt.
No more ritual beltings
that left me bruised
and bloodied.
This last act of hatred
would end all my pain.
Was it really an act of hatred?
or of kindness?
To release me from his grip
from his evil power
that soon would have had me
slashing my own wrists!