Poetry

A goodbye note was found beside the bed,
It said, 'You're too late, I'm already dead.
I wanted someone to stand by my side,
Someone in which I could truly confide.
Someone who loved me, someone who cared,
Just someone to hold me when I was scared.
No one was there for me, no one at all.
I even left a little picture for you on the wall.
You'll find it in the bathroom, behind the door,
Which may be hard to open with me sprawled on the floor.
The picture tells a story, a story about me,
I always loved you, as you'll soon see.
I drew it with my blood after I cut real deep,
I used all my strength to complete this feat.
I couldn't live my life like this forever.
I couldn't live knowing we'd never be together.'
Walking in the bathroom, turning on the light,
You feel nauseated at the gruesome sight.
The bathroom floor was covered in my blood.
Like it had just gushed out in a flood.
Behind the door was the picture as the note had said,
Just below the picture was my body, cold and dead.
Stepping closer to the picture on the wall,
Trying not to slip on my blood, trying not to fall.
You see the image of a broken heart,
The image of a woman who fell apart.
You fall to your knees, knowing it's too late.
You cry and curse yourself for my fate.
You wanted to be with me for the rest of our days,
You loved me and was coming by to tell me today.
'I always loved you, as you'll soon see, ' you said,
'You'll never be alone again, ' as you cradled my head.
You picked up the blade, sliced yourself real deep.
Thick blood gurgled out, from the cut it seeped.
'Together we'll be, if not in life, then in death.'
You whispered in my ear with your last dying breath.