Free

Slit wrists my life force runs free, 

a jagged dagger to cut the hate off.

A note to say i did not love all that was me.

Severed are the nerves that make me cry,

sockets are weak these rivers run dry.

Superfluous padding alining the ground

adorning lesions, with more to yet find.

In hind sight all are flowers that bloom

this bud did rot, withered away in shade.

Through all my struggles for things to end,

in a pool of me, no more pretend.

RBM 13/05/11