Body Drained and Tired

Body drained and tired,
wakin up completely wired,
dry blood crumbling off your arm,
go wash it off to avoid alarm,
go out with your friends
and just pretend, pretend
everything's ok knowing the pain there, they can't locate,
do bullshit all fucking day,
trying to numb the pain away,
takin percasets, your pills,
allowing you to have some thrills,
making it so you just can't feel to be so numb and alive,
making you for that minute, survive that's important to you,
to just live through,
life,
but you know your too dependent on that knife.
Day is over and you go home,
all alone,
mom is working night shift,
dad so drunk he just sits in his piss it just ain't right,
she works to buy his fucking bud light
at least now he doesn't fight,
memberin when you'd come home,
and he had the phone,
pounding it up against her dome,
she was all alone,
all day,
and to her dismay,
he would beat her all the fucking way
you'd tend to her wounds and he'd go get drunk,
everyone in a while he'd throw you a punch,
call you a punk,
then he just sunk,
sat in his chair,
and with out a care,
smoked up the air
he got weaker now,
I don't see how,
but I don't question anymore,
just take comfort listening to him snore,
out of our lives, now go to the knife turning up your cassette,
trying to get in that mind set
get a concept,
and stick with it. Dwelling on it your eyes go white,
you choose not to fight, then you start to slice.
Putting that knife up against your skin,
hoping that it will win,
you deepen it in,
pulling away hard to oblivion.
Nothing at first,
then the blood bursts,
pouring out that slit,
small at first and then like a faucet.
You usually go to bed,
but you were just fed,
this is no longer your med,
this is your way out.
You wanted this rout,
you would miss your mom,
but to not do it is wrong.
Slicing and dicing
your body revising.
You took your blood bath,
your body felt the knife’s wrath
now you must finish your path
you gasp bloodshot red looks down at his friend,
this weapon will bring to you your end
place it up to your throat, dark red coat gripped your friend,
gripping at the very end,
you can't comprehend,
what you have done,
not with a gun,
but with your knife,
you start to slice.
You stop at first,
but you were done with the worst,
body falls dead leaving his curse.
Blood trailing all around him,
soaking through his shirt and into his skin.
He went for the ride,
having no pride,
the boy committed suicide.

----- by Gabrielle

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