Thursday, Nov. 14, 2002/10:12 pm

disturbed

Cold, static floor,

against bruised knees.

Stiff air, no noise,

but the numbing tone,

inside my head.

Pounding into my skull.

Sinking soul.

Wounded,

fragile frame,

A heatbeat that skips every two seconds,

The knife twisted in,

and left.

While the blood seeps,

all over the deadly, clean surface.

/

Eyes that roll.

A face as white as snow,

if only it was as pure.

Sunken cheeks,

grey toned lips.

A shaky hand,

that reaches out.

To try to tell you,

you'll be remembered,

on a scribbled note.

Blue foreign words.

Lined paper with blotches of red.

One last part of me.

/

Laying,

waiting.

Falling,

weaker and weaker.

staring at the celing,

fragmented vision,

white flickers,

closing in,

to nothing,

but black.

Gone.