Suicide

Daylight comes it's jagged blades,
the blanket of night it hacks away.
The harbour of oblivion, gone,
another fucking day begun.

Another day of gnawing pain,
another day the fucking same,
desperation, desolate burning,
sweet release the balm your yearning.

Pills for thrills, seeking highs
to deaden down the inner cries.
pills for kills, seeking rest
close your eyes, but fail the test.

Slash and cut, cigarette burn hate,
finally grasp your control of fate.
A length of rope, a gentle drop!
At last, No pain, the end, Full stop!

just wrote this, Perfect
---------------------------
'Sucide Note'

I want to love
I want to hold you
I truly do

You are my everything
It is that fact that your near
that keeps away this ugly tear

Its all you
Your, love me too
Your, I truly do

You said so many things
Like that all you said was true
But how can I believe those lies too?

When you speak
A little piece of me dies
With every twist of your lies

You are the cause
Of all these tears
And all of my fears

I continue to think
How can I trust
When my hearts going to burt

And every night
I wish I was never born
Then I'd never be so torn

Its all the fault of this fate
Thats full of awful twists
That cause the cuts on my wrists

This is surely hell already
Because every where i look i see your face
Hell is most definatly this place

I cant handle all of this
I have made so many spills
By the way the drain is clogged with pills

This is my life
A broken vase
Cant stand the chase

I am tired
Of the falling tears
The increasing fears

I know I'm almost gone
With every lie
I know I'm going to die

This is what it takes
To achieve my goal
To get rid of this soul

Maybe its all to late
The thing I was using to kill
Was that deadly pill

Why cant I be
One of the dead
Thats the path I have lead

If only I could
Just drop
And go plop

Maybe that would end
I'm tired of buffering
I need to end this suffering

The question keeps coming
Why was I born?
That is the thought like thorn

Why cant I escape
I want no delays
Destroy the rainbow of greys

Why god? Why?
I know Im not clever
So why wont you let me sleep forever?

It is I
That I want to use as the sacrafice
I know this is the price

This Life
Is like a spinning top
MAKE IT STOP!

I cant get what I want
This life I never bought
I will end it with a shot

To me
I wish nothing more
to be in the morge

Why?
Why cant I be dead
With the lies I have been feed

There is
Such a high sky
That after this I will fly

I try to ignore it
But I know what you think
But I dont care, I'm at my brink

Do you know what this is?
This is the world I hate
This is worst than hell's gate

This is the end
This is the final kill
Ended with a pill

This is the final
Its been such a long while
Since I had such a pure smile

One last word
I did try
I didnt just cry

But my efforts were futile
I never stood a chance
In this world's evil dance

This world is more than you think
It is far more cruel
It has you spun on a spool

Say good bye for me
Maybe someone will finaly see
Not just what I couldnt be

This is the thing
That when I sink this will float
This is my Sucide Note

4chan said:Write a poem about a time when you or someone else was suicidal and how you felt while it was happening.

Alternative: Write about what you think death will feel like.

Has there been a winner chosen for this comp?

Poetryman said:[quote-127030-4chan]Write a poem about a time when you or someone else was suicidal and how you felt while it was happening. Alternative: Write about what you think death will feel like.  Has there been a winner chosen for this comp?[/quote]  If you go the 4chan's profile, his attendance line reads thus:

"4chan has been a member for 19 days and last visited 8 days ago.

 So... maybe we got us an orphan contest here.
 Won't be the first.

rayheinrich said:[quote-133584-Poetryman][quote-127030-4chan]Write a poem about a time when you or someone else was suicidal and how you felt while it was happening. Alternative: Write about what you think death will feel like.  Has there been a winner chosen for this comp?[/quote]  If you go the 4chan's profile, his attendance line reads thus:

"4chan has been a member for 19 days and last visited 8 days ago.

 So... maybe we got us an orphan contest here.
 Won't be the first.
[/quote]

Well I hope the inspiration for the competition didnt become the catalyst for the final action...
JJ

Not only does it appear to be an orphaned contest, but I had a sneaking suspicion about 4chan and went browsing her poems. Well, at least her most recent poem, Vegetable, which as it turns out is a song by Joe Bivins.
check it out @
http://thegreatjoebivins.bandcamp.com/track/vegetable-2
That's a shame, it was a good idea for a contest and there are several very good entries. I didn't check any others, but I'll bet there are other plagiarized poems in her library... I doubt we will ever hear from 4chan again. Maybe we should have a group vote and pick a winner ourselves.

It does make one wonder what is going on in the heads of some people.

JJ


rayheinrich said:[quote-133584-Poetryman][quote-127030-4chan]Write a poem about a time when you or someone else was suicidal and how you felt while it was happening. Alternative: Write about what you think death will feel like.  Has there been a winner chosen for this comp?[/quote]  If you go the 4chan's profile, his attendance line reads thus:

"4chan has been a member for 19 days and last visited 8 days ago.

 So... maybe we got us an orphan contest here.
 Won't be the first.
[/quote]

Bristles

I can feel the bristles scratch my neck.
I contemplate how quickly it will end, who will miss me, and what I’m leaving behind.
I tighten the rope around my neck and feel the bristles pierce my skin.
I take my final podium aboard my old dusty office chair.
For once in my life I will take control.

I hold the rope around my neck for some time just contemplating things over and over again.
I decide it’s time.
In one fatal swoop I kick the chair beneath me and begin my final journey.

I see images in front of me,
I see a boy crying on a playground,
him being beaten repeatedly,
limping home,
his friends turning their backs on him.
I see the way his dad scorchs his face with cigarettes leaving scars that won’t heal.
forever etched in his skin is the constant reminder of how worthless he is.

There is no light at the end of this tunnel the bristles say,
they tighten their grip around my neck. the images transform,
I see the boy with a knife just as he turns his arm into a untraceable canvas,
a story in every cut,
a tear in every drop of blood he spills to make himself feel something.

He takes the knife to his throat but can’t complete his artwork.
so he hides his paintings, with long sleeves and sweaters, hoping the critics won’t see his masterpieces.
I see the boy holding a rope,
standing on an old dusty office chair.
Everything fades to black.

As the bristles rob me of my last few breaths, an image shows,
it is of the boy and a girl sitting in a field holding hands.
I remember this day as the only day I felt anything but sadness.
I begin to realize that there is a reason to live, that I’m not what they say I am.
struggling for air I attempt to land my foot on to any  surface available,
Just as I reach my foot onto a solid surface i feel the bristles bringing me back into their barbarous clutches once again. -

I would like to note to everyone something off hand, this is a serious subject, i have created two endings to the same story to show the contrasts of the outcome and how it changes drastically

1: -my journey ends here. but not my life. for that which is most precious to me is my memories. Though few in number the few fond memories i have are enough to give me hope that life will continue and i will move on.

2:-This is the way that I will be found by my family, cold hanging from the ceiling fan with cuts in my neck forever engraved by the bristles on my neck.

Sry everyone if this is more of a dramatic reading than poetry

-Never