07 July 2015

Beyond Help

What's wrong with me?
a blade, serrated and rusty, is methodically removing my skin
I'm watching and feeling nothing 
I can smell the blood flowing from my arm
a torrent of red that turned black
staring in disbelief at what I did
the mess I left behind
the questions I wont answer

Just take a good look at me
I'm a fucken bloody mess
ask the voices in my head
constantly talking incoherently
I only catch part of what they say
could be the wires in my brain
too many power surges, they got fried
cutting connections, toying with emotions
preventing me from feeling pain

Lost my grip on reality
I saw things no one else could see
they demanded their pound of flesh
and threatened my mortality
though I tried I couldn't abstain
once again I cut my skin away

Returning to the hear and now
where the suffering never ends
walking with Death I found comfort
as if he and I were friends
last I recalled
a sticky red
my thumping chest
the calm that came with my last breath

Copyright © 2015 Patrick B Vince

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