Blue

Leather belt my makeshift noose,

Sweet death I finally choose;

The only remedy to my petty blues,

The only escape from the endless cycle of self-inflicted abuse.

A mirror in front of me

To see my lips turn blue in a silent plea,

To see my eyes water and the tears run free,

And myself, choke quietly.

Blurred, my vision,

Limbs seized by violent convulsions,

Mind losing all cognition,

And the approaching black carriage my only consolation.

In the midst of that hypoxic disorientation,

Came a strange moment of clarity and self-actualization,

An awakening of sorts, a realization,

That death is the only end to this damnation;

The damnation christened life.