Murder

December 20, 2009

Here’s a gun.
You just have to shoot.
My heart is numb,
I’m already dead.
This sullen life,
ain’t worth the breath I take,
Look around you,
does this make sense?
Here’s a knife.
I’m marked the places
For your aim,
and pierce me in darkness.
Here’s a vial,
filled with poison,
A few drops in my wine,
and I’ll leave you behind,
like you wanted.

By DalaiHarma

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2 a.m.

December 18, 2009

The moon overhead,
watching me as I take
each breath.
The stars hiding
behind dark clouds,
disappointed at the haze.
With my every wake,
as I exhale,
the smoke I take.
The houses all asleep,
but for mine.
Several alit,
home to insomniacs
we are all alike.
Bats fly
past me overhead
as dogs bark in the distance
I care not
for it all.
The one thing
that matters to me
right now, resides
in each breath I take.
The fact I’m still alive
though fact remains
I’m wanted gone.
By Pahness