I wrote this at 4:30 am one night when I was particularly depressed. I am actually quite proud of it. It is one of my poems that echoes my everything.


Death

Death, beyond pleasure.
It grew to be a necessity.
I yearned for it sometimes.
Always out of reach.

Those around me kept me from it.
Not in the physical sense.
They are pleasantly ignorant at this point
Not since the last time, have I thought they worried.

No, they stopped me for the fear.
My mortal coil linked them to me.
For if I severed this link.
The hurt would flow deep, and all my causing.

My aim was not to hurt but to end hurt.
This awareness burns into me.
Not always, but now it does.
I could not do it, that stupid link.

Fear pushed through deeper than the coil.
The fear of pain, for the process was not easy.
And the awareness at those few last moments would be unbearable
Or so I imagine.

I am a slave to fear.
These human emotions make me human,
Keep me human.
They keep my existence around.
For now.




Poetry by Daniel
Read 883 times
Written on 2006-02-08 at 07:13

Tags Death  Depression 

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Natalie
I think you have a right to be proud of this poem, it's really good!
2006-02-11