LiL BiT's blog: "writing/poetry"

Her eyes, the color of wet pavement,

So cold, so empty, so close to death,

Still hold one glimmer of lifeAs they stare from above the nose,

Slipknot close to the skin of her neck,

Rickety chair unbalanced beneath her toes,

Flesh clammy and wet, hair unkempt and filled with sweat

Around her throat, she grasps the constricting cord,

Her hands shaking with indecision and fear,

Yet, the act is so simple, so clear

Eyes, once full of shimmering hope,

Now glanceing up at the knotted rope,

Are only filled with tears,

Her lifes a debt she cannot afford

With one deep inhaled breath,

Placing her hands across her breasts,

Eyelids blocking the light from the room,

Teeth bared, gaining strength,

Nails cutting through her palms,

Blood dripping to the floor,

Her feet rock the chair until it tumbles.

She falls, bones in neck breaking loose,

Arm jerks, thumping against her side,

Life and Death at once collide,

Face lackluster and grey

Rope rubs plank, starting to fray,

Barren, Blank and opened wide

Her eyes stare nowhere from above the noose

(perreault)