Poet’s Note: TRIGGER WARNING. This is fairly suggestive of an act of suicide. Please read with caution. 

I find myself wallowing
in a mud hole of self-pity
wondering if I’ll ever get out
if someone will ever come
to rescue me from my sorrows
however selfish they may be
in my mind’s eye
my life dribbling away
in a bathtub full of water
seems the only way
to save myself from my torments
to lay naked in water
mixed with the crimson rivers
of my blood
to finally close my eyes
peace descending
death ending my failure
at living
all my life
I’ve wanted truly
only one thing
and one thing only
for someone
not of family
or friendship
to love me
to be there when I need him
alas, I feel as if I cannot live
the motto “what doesn’t kill you,
only makes you stronger. . .”
ahh, but when is the breaking point?
I have reached mine
all I wish to feel right now
is the blade down and
across the softness of skin
that are my wrists
to even slice the life
from my throat
death come to me
embrace me in your eager arms
send me to hell
for that is surely
easier to handle
than this failed existence called life

© Johanna Fugitt 2017