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A Questioning Dead Body
By Half-Dead Agonist
Why does living burn so terribly much?
Why is it that when I smoke, it burns my throat?
And when I cut myself, the knife hurts my being?
And when I write suicide notes, my sobbing eyes swell with redness?
Why do I want to cry every time I look into my true love's eyes?
Why does it hurt every time I delay the tempting kiss of suicide?
Why does solitude love to kill me?
Why shouldn't I die before my next breath?
Why do I prolong this death?
Why does no one answer me a single question:
Why not tonight?
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Copyright 2003 Half-Dead Agonist
Published on Friday, September 26, 2003.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "A Questioning Dead Body"
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On Sunday, July 23, 2006, mywristshurt
(405)
wrote:
this was one of those poems you should classify as "other".. it was okay, but i wish you would put a little more either questions, or... damnit, i cant think of that word.. lol.. yea
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A former member wrote:
because you'd take us with you... ~jul-bug
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On Saturday, September 27, 2003, maddin foxxxy
(358) wrote:
I know that type of question and asking it is useless..though the answers do come...sometimes too late..but they come.
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On Saturday, September 27, 2003, SilentStalker
(1047) wrote:
I've stopped asking the questions for now...it's easier for me to live the nightmare for now...good write... -Darun
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