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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/585092-Final-Journey
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Adult · #585092
A misguided and confused young lady attempts to correct the past. 1994
My heart is racing wildly
I can hardly breathe
Closing in around me
As I roll my sleeve

Razor poised abve my wrist
My life strolls past my eyes
Throbbing heart pounds in my ears
A tremble in my thighs

Reflections of my memories
The times in days behind
Review the life that's stored away
Locked within my mind

Mistakes were far to numerous
To re-play them all
The failures draw forth agony
As they leap into recall

A child conceived through circumstance
The source of great debate
A night of fear and shattered trust
A date that led to rape

A baby born to unwed child
Though great and high the cost
A moment gazed upon her face
And then the child was lost

A parade of failed relationships
Now march past my eyes
The highs and lows, the pain that grew
The beatings and the lies

The close out of the human race
Was something I could boast
But, sadly, lost along the way
Were the ones that mattered most

My mind jumps back to present
And to my deed at hand
With sweaty palms, I swallow hard
My wrist looks oddly tanned

My mouth feels dry, tastes salty
As I climb into the tub
I seat myself and draw a breath
Banging knees, I pause to rub

My thoughts start spinning wildly
As I struggle for more time
I pause again, begin to think
Without a reason or a rhyme

I arrive upon a topic
My Regrets, I have a few
I close my eyes and lean back
They weave by, as if on cue

Of tattered life and innocence
The intensity undiminished
A journey lost, a sight unseen
The things I never finished

A book of many pages
Sits incomplete in dusty case
The daughter lost so long ago
I've not chanced to see her face

I'll miss the wind
Bright stars at night
The flowers and sparkley things
The poems I've yet to write

My few friends and family
The goodbyes I never said
But most of all my beautiful cats
I'll miss when I am dead

I draw the razor straight and true
And blood spurts from my arm
With a lump in my throat and tear in my eye
It's time to buy the farm

Blood gushes out, with a gurgling sound
As it trickles down the drain
My head feels light, my skin grows cold
As the life ebbs from my brain

A dizzy swirl of faces past
Collide with words unsaid
And dimly merge with deeds undone
Inside my groggy head

It's far to late to turn back now
Icy chills run down my back
And life once known and treasured
Slowly fades to black
© Copyright 2002 Jale DeCrittare (jale at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/585092-Final-Journey