Contemplations on Suicide are Disturbing

The spattering of tears on the ground
breaks the deafening silence at the cost of my heart.

For I am alone.

The tears of blood trickles on as pain buries itself deeper,
and deeper.

The mouths of people open,
yet the only sound I hear
is the spattering of my blood.

I find myself swimming in a strange sea,
only to find the same fate as Jonah.
Spat by a whale into a desolate beach,
an island of gloom, and of death.

The only light I see is the ring of fire in the sky,
Yet I am surrounded in utter darkness.

The spattering grows louder,
faster.

My heart cries blood,
as the sands begin to run out.

The Grim sits by closely, smiling,
as I reach for a blade.
Death is but a loyal lover,
and as seconds pass I fear I would truly be with her.

I can hear the angels singing,
to my doom, my own demise.
As I run it across my wrists,
I feel empty, drained, and dead.