|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
ForgetIs it possible for you to remember, to forget?
Let's remember when we laughed,
Or when we first met,
Times we'll never regret?
Let's remember smiling at how stupid we were,
Or, how we pointed to normal people,
And said, 'Look at her !'
'Yeah, for sure!'
Let's remember slapping each other upside the head,
Or taking each other's pencils and wasting the lead.
But can you forget, when I'm dead?
I'm not dead now, not yet.
I'm waiting, deciding,
On a date to be set,
A day to be met.
You try to help, to reach for my hand,
But there are others waiting for you.
For the promised land,
Waiting for help that isn't a command.
GoneI've chosen the gun.
I gently take the bullets from my hand.
I kiss each one.
There are two.
I'm about to go through.
I decide to put it to my head.
Cliche, I know,
But it won't matter when I'm dead.
I count to three.
I pull the trigger.
No more me.
Cause I'm gone!
I've chosen the rope.
I knot it carefully.
I've lost all hope.
I make sure it's tight.
I hang it from the fan.
I turn off the fan lights.
The chair is pulled from my desk.
I position it just so.
The rope fits snuggly around my neck.
One foot is hanging in the air.
Now there are two,
Cause I'm finally gone!
I've chosen the knife.
A five-inch on
'Happy'You can look over at me,
And see me smiling.
But I'm really dying.
Being a source of entertainment.
I've tried to escape this before,
All I am is a puppet,
And I don't want that anymore.
I'm here to see you smile,
And to make you happy.
That's the only reason I'm still here now,
I thought you had saved me.
I was wrong; I don't matter, not to you
You don't get it's just a show.
That all this smiling is an act,
At least, You'll never know.
I'm keeping this from you,
For your own safety.
I'll keep hiding,
What's going on inside me.
Because you seem to think it's my job,
To make you happy.
You'd all fall apart,
Without something to
Wash It All AwayStand there dripping onto the floor,
Stand there praying to God some more,
Stand there waiting for the blood to stop,
Standing still when you think that its not.
You hope it won't.
Grab the back of a paper which used for a poem you wrote,
Grab the dull pencil to write a quick note,
Grab on to the hope and half-sadness that you won't need it to say goodbye to all
Grabbing onto the door handle when you slip and fall.
Slipping in your own blood.
Throw the paper off the desk,
Throw the bloody towels into the trash to clean up the mess,
Throw the door open with strength on the brink,
Throw the reddened razor into the sink.
Throwing it so hard
Keep in Touch!
`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More