Tired.

She looks out the window.
Grey clouds gather.
The wind is blowing.
The sky is dark.

She is tired.
Tired of life.
Of heartbreak.
Of pain.

The music is playing.
She needs it to not hear.
The crying in the other room.
Her mother has been beaten again.

She is tired.
Tired of all the fighting.
Of all the violence.
Of all the screaming.

She is crying now.
Big wet tears.
Running slowly down her chin.
Her heart is heavy.

She is tired.
Tired of crying.
Of never feeling happy.
Of feeling locked up.

The razorblade is lying there.
Shiny and sharp.
She picks it up.
It's light as air.

She is tired.
Tired of life.
Of heartbreak.
Of pain.

She feels nothing as the blade cuts.
Looking down.
There is blood on her wrists.
Cutting deeper.

She finaly finds rest.
In a nother world.
In a nother place.
In peace.

Copyright 2007 Nyorioko.




Poetry by Nyorioko
Read 374 times
Written on 2007-08-29 at 17:08

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