The Call

Razorblades ring, Calling me home. I feel the blood sting, Begging to run. I want to escape, Fall out of line. Pray to my veins, Sacrifice my wine. I feel myself there, Dark and deep down. My body the lair, My screams resound. The pulse throbs and thuds, And I lust for release. My heart wants to flood; I need to bleed. Flesh keeping me But I am not this skin; It's only a projection: This pain, this sin. This poem is where I leak Giving my soul in words, And I hope you hear me speak, Sing like the birds. I'm choosing my breath To let me breathe, There is only silence in death, And I would no longer be. So I wait for the sun, The egg yolk break rise, Because time has begun, And it shall be my demise. We're all addicted To something That takes away the pain Like mind-treading a book Or dancing in the rain. I've felt more than "18 years" tells But killing myself Won't really help I'm not ready to end, Be forgotten and stuffed Into Earth's round belly There are more places to see More people like me