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Suicidal Thoughts
by Christopher ShinBlood feels so warm against
my fingers as I play with
it like a spindle of time
in a web of misery.
Will I be remembered for
who I was in life or will
I be remembered for the little
efforts I made to survive?
Rain drops splatter against
the empty cement floor
like the sound of children
running through silent
hallways.
My eyes grow to heavy to
count the stars above me.
My heart feels the weight
of your sadness in my brows.
Hell does not compare to
the world I live each day
and night I struggle to find
meaning in this world.
I feel the flickers of millions
of stardust pull at my soul.
I stare at the red in my hands,
and I see my heart for the first
time in my life.
And it slows down quickly as
the words slip from my hands
as the letters stagger with
numbness like ice.
And the world goes black
like how and when we were all
born for the last time. 09/22/2004 Posted on 09/23/2004
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by David R Spellman on 09/25/04 at 12:00 PM Such a tough subject matter and sad that any of us would consider and then follow through with this. You have captured so well some of the emptiness of the feeling with some excellent images and phrasings like "a spindle of time
in a web of misery" and "words slip from my hands
as the letters stagger with numbness like ice," as well as others. The ending adds so much finality to it. Excellent! |
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