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Click hereHave you ever hated life so bad you wante to die???
I have...and the following is the story....
the year was 86'
I was going through...my first seperation/divrce
I'd givin up...on this bull shit called life
sat down with a bottle of whiskey
and drank myself to death
a point five o
they said I'd died...and brought me back
it was a miracle...
I was still alive.....
in my head I cursed...
still alive...when all I wanted was death
years later...a decade...almost to the day
again...in a mental health unit...
they took all I had but my pants, my shirt...and my boots...and on those boots they'd left...was two gold clips...one on each toe
three days...without a med...
I was so broken...so alone...tears ran down my face...cold
I took the tips off my boots...
bent them....
till I broke off an edge....
I waited for night...for the last nurse...
to take a pulse and pressure....
she left...
the room dark...
given up...
void of hope...
I
opened my wrists...
slit....
slit....
gashed....
they were open....
the blood poured...
to the floor....
laying there...
waiting for a cease to the pain...
a heart split in two
and it came...
the floor had turned red...
a puddle of red,
around the hospital bed...
I felt the world spinning around me...
I'd lost too much blood to make a return.
my head...between an ache...and nothing....
everything faded...and I remember...
smiling to myself...saying..."this is finally it"
"no more" "Fuck you father for foresaking me"...."your game show using me is at an end."
I awoke again!!!!!!! I swore....I cursed......I thought I'd finally achieve death! and now...still live in this world??? FUck you!
I feel the awful pain you have felt/feel. I wish you well an want to say it gets better - but would you believe me? You probably already know this - but writing about it all is cathartic.
Best wishes.
You are correct.
This is a story far more than a poem.
Have you considered collecting all of your work,
redacting the duplication,
and making something of story length?