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Click hereOn the horizon
A murder of blackbirds
Beckon me
With their Styxian eyes
They wait in the distance
As I slide off my body
Lift my arms
And slip into the grey mist
Of the overworld
This time it’s real
No silver thread binds me
I don’t look down
At the tortured thing
Which was my body
I’m free now to embrace the cosmos
It’s time to caste off earthly lesions
The ache from my empty womb
And tear shaped breasts is gone
Gone too, is the misery of loneliness
Of a long lost child
Grown to a woman
With a heart of stone
Having forsaken love for whimsy
And promises of magic
And happily ever after
The pain is gone of learning
That tomorrow will not be brighter
Rather, tomorrow is just another
Dull, bleak day like today
So I soar through the ether
Feeling freedom
From the wretched, everyday
The mist is golden
The cerulean earth below is nothing to me now
It can’t hold me
Though its pull is visceral
But it’s to be ignored
I’m off
Looking for one perfect spot
A place in the universe
Which is mine
Below there lies a body
Wearing bracelets of blackbirds
Sipping at blood
Which flows from her wrists
Into the sand
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 35,000 poems.
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Now I'm just a free roaming spirit in the sky...Excellent, after all this is just a poem, right.
Suicide success as her departing soul looks back at the pain being left behind.
Suicide success as her departing soul looks back at the pain being left behind.