The Descent
I killed myself the other day.
It doesn't matter how.
There was some blood, there was some pain,
But that's enough for now.
What matters was my fatal reason.
It wasn't really sound,
To commit that awful treason,
That placed me in the ground.
I started with that first bleak tear,
That trickled down unchecked.
It's origin was sad black fear.
I knew my life was wrecked.
The drugs had been a bad idea,
My brain wasn't quite right.
After that slight speed overdose,
I knew not day from night.
The age of darkness followed then.
My heart began to die.
Both blade and fire pierced my skin.
My cry was but a sigh.
Through due process my soul was charred,
Methodical and sure.
My mind was fucked, my body scarred.
Not one thing left was pure.
It doesn't matter how.
There was some blood, there was some pain,
But that's enough for now.
What matters was my fatal reason.
It wasn't really sound,
To commit that awful treason,
That placed me in the ground.
I started with that first bleak tear,
That trickled down unchecked.
It's origin was sad black fear.
I knew my life was wrecked.
The drugs had been a bad idea,
My brain wasn't quite right.
After that slight speed overdose,
I knew not day from night.
The age of darkness followed then.
My heart began to die.
Both blade and fire pierced my skin.
My cry was but a sigh.
Through due process my soul was charred,
Methodical and sure.
My mind was fucked, my body scarred.
Not one thing left was pure.
Whoa. Before I fleshen out that sentiment, let me just say that the following are golden lines -- "Both blade and fire pierced my skin. / My cry was but a sigh. / Through due process my soul was charred, / Methodical and sure./ My mind was fucked, my body scarred. / Not one thing left was pure."
It's very dark and heartbreaking. The idea that this person's descent into death was "methodical and sure" is very interesting. And the imagery is intense -- "blade and fire pierced my skin". I almost feel like that line encompasses the sentiment of the whole poem. Like the blade piercing the skin is also metaphorically hacking at this person's life, and the fire is purging out all that "was pure".
Very nifty. I like it, I like the diction and the imagery.