Copyright Monica

her heart beats faster and faster
a thousand thoughts run through her head
razor in place she cuts
a perfect line of blood flows
she watches as it grows
when it does, she feels the rush
the rush of saticfaction… exhaustion… freedom

Silent Suicide

Copyright Monica

i can’t remember the last time i was really happy.
maybe i was put into this world to be the example of pain and suffering.
or maybe i just deserve it. when i cut or burn myself there is no thinking,
unlike many i do it for real and good reasons, i know many who want attention
or because its fun or because they have no one when in reality they have everything.
i have nothing. no love no family no friends no nothing. but i can’t complain can i?
so i rather just shut it and let the razor do all the talking…


Copyright, Monica

Bury me.
Anything trivial
means the world to me.
Slowly I sink.
These thoughts won’t ever stop.
A light flickers…
dies out.
There’s nothing I see.
at all that is
forver forsaking me.
Killing me.
Taking me for all I’m worth.
I’m lost inside,
huddled in a ball
amongst 1,000 screaming
horrid faces
laughing at me…
the weakling in the corner.
A dark box–
inside, nothing but pain.
I want to scream.
I can’t get out,
so I hide.
Waiting for and end.
Waiting for peace.
An eternal last breath.
Wave good-bye.
I’m lost inside.
A fury of flames
waiting to break free…
to rid me,
to have the last word.
No way out.
A scream for help
silenced under the thrawls
of a silver demon.
Even such-
there is no escape,
or finale,
and all that was is forgotten.
Dig nails.
Scrape flesh.
Bleed until all that’s felt
is shoved aside.
I hate myself,
and it’s hard to believe
that anyone could love
a person so ugly,
so vulgar…
black inside.
There’s no way out.
Forever in the
black box.
Trapped inside.
These thoughts
will never subside.
I’ve already died.


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