Shards.

Fantasies of death linger in my mind,
I don't want to live anymore,
I wish my empty heart was no longer beating.
Smashing this mirror,
And shattering the glass,
Picking up the pieces,
And cutting my fingers and my hand as I hold the shard of glass in my palm.
Dragging the fragments across my wrists,
Tearing jagged cuts in my skin,
Gashing open my arms and feeling the warm blood flowing from my body.
Pressing broken glass into my veins until I'm no longer breathing,
Causing myself an immense, unbearable pain that makes me scream out in agony,
And that I'm glad there's no one home to hear me as I scream and cry.
Crying until there's no tears left in my eyes,
Bleeding until there's no blood left in my veins.
I hear the gasps come out,
And I watch the blood flow until I collapse onto the ground.
Dying,
I pray there's something more as everything fades to black.
Okay, that was wierd!
Cool!
FREAK!
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