Becka Jayne

My Note

Copyright Becka Jayne

Without a word I shut my door
And locked it up real tight
I took a pen and wrote a note
Explaining I won’t be living past this night.

I lit a candle and maybe two
As the tears started to fall
I took the note that I had wrote
And put it above me on my wall.

At first I sat and thought a sec
As my life flashed through my eyes
But I know its got to end this way
I no longer want to be alive.

The razor gleams in the candle light
Blinding me with the relief
Then finally make my last cut to end
This pointless life stricken with grief.

My eyes start to get heavy
As my sorrow’s leaking from my skin
I feel that I am fading
I’m gonna let this darkness win.

And as I take my final breath
I bring this last reality to me
Then I close my eyes and let me die
Knowing I’m finally set free.

Internal Bleeding

Copyright Becka Jayne

Can someone ever wake me up from this dream
Pull me out of my sorrow out of this silent scream?
Can something inside me just render its force
Because for every deep gash I feel less remorse?
Can help ever reach me and snatch away my blade
Before I use it so much the sharpness starts to fade?
Can I for once not get so drunk that I feel that I need
The pain only I can control with razor how much I bleed?
Could I see proof on what seems to be the meaning of my life
Anything but there’s nothing but drugs, razorblade, and knife?
Could I just not remember every bathroom where I almost died
Forget each blood soaked sweater and friends that I made cry?
The answers to these questions are doomed with more dispare
Although some won’t say it we know its always been there.
Nowhere to go but back on the floor blood trickeling free
Wondering why the answer’s ‘Suffer’ and why pain is all I see.
Looking at all these people in their dandy state of mind
Surrounded but so lonely anyone like me I can’t seem to find.
They don’t fucking understand or even give the slightest care
Their words are fake and see through that hurt and aren’t fare.
The only one that’s always there and can reflect back on my pain
Is that little metal thing in my pocket with relief of blood to drain.
Up and down and side to side quick slashes fill my arm
Retracing the many scars and making more in blissful but dark harm.
Dont stop until the blood will not til you see nothing but red
Dont stop until your weakened til your fading until your dead.


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