Scribbled Suicide

Dear World,

Tonight I laid down to sleep and began choking on non-existent tears.  Panic began to set in as I started drowning in my fears.  So, I quickly rose and, with my favorite pen, I took a stand (for once) and slit my wrists again.  My precious ink began to flow; I let it roll onto the page, but it was coming much to slow; I became filled with rage.  So, with my wicked tongue, I slit my throat from ear to ear.  See, I decided long ago, not to give way to fear.  More ink flowed now; faster than before.  Still to alive and scared, I needed to do more.  I took my vicious pen and stabbed deep into my breast, then tore my broken heart from inside my pain-filled chest.  I slammed the wretched thing (hard) unto the page, and the ink ran all over like a beast freed from its cage.  It was only then, that my fears finally did subside; to this: (my painfully exquisite) scribbled suicide.

Love always,


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