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Tiffany Wyatt 1987 (Missouri)

Death is easy
It's life that is hard.

Bruised and broken
I'm standing on the edge
I'm ashamed to look at myself in the mirror.
Your loving touch turned to the violent hands that left me this way.
There is nothing left of me.
An empty shell that once housed a strong spirit.
A hallow memory of the woman I once was.
Looking down from my unsteady perch.
Wondering, will it hurt?
Of course it will...
The pain from falling will end quickly.
The shattering of a once vibrant soul will be felt by every I ever knew.
One little step is all its going to take.
Why do I hesitate?
Why do I think some one will try and save me.
I've waited long enough.
Time to go.
A blackened heart, a broken soul
All at once, will be no more.
Eyes closed
Tears flowing
Heart racing
Blood rushing for the very last time.
To bad it's just another suicide.

About this poem

This poem is about suicide. And it comes from my personal experience with trying to end my life.

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Written on June 12, 2018

Submitted by Idfk on August 07, 2021

49 sec read

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    "Statistic" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 6 Dec. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/106518/statistic>.

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