deepundergroundpoetry.com

Pardon Me

I pound my fists to my head
leave bruises
dark and red.

I gnaw on my lips until they're bloody
And then I lick them
And the sting feels funny.

I cut my wrists to sate my need
To draw out crimson
to watch myself bleed.

I choke myself to taste perfection
the touch of death,
his soothing infection.

I close my eyes and know this pain isn't enough,
but I scream at the voices inside
and tell them to shut up.

I'm one step closer to the devil's door
bleeding out bright red
and lying on the floor.

I'm two steps closer to salvation
but I'm only taking one
sitting in quiet calculation.

I'm three steps closer to you
and it kills me inside
that I can't do what you need me to do.

Pardon me as I turn my back and walk away,
but I just can't listen to anymore
of those hurtful things you say.

I'm a half step off the stool under my feet
with the noose around my neck,
my death of hanging will be bloodless and neat.