See, I wash the dishes every night,and sometimes random pieces of poetry float through my brain. Tonight, after reading the suicide section in Chicken soup for the Teenage Soul (a spectacular piece of Lit. IMO), This came to me. Feel free to take it and add to it. Maybe it could become a group poem? I dunno. Anyway, here it is.
Feeling the razor blade
slice off the tourniquet
as my whole life slips away.
Alright people, have at it.
~Alecto (I always forget, and almost put my real name. )