1. The Hipforums announces it first ever fundraiser. After nearly 30 years online, we must ask our members and guests to help support the website. Thanks to years of ongoing financial support of our members, advertisers and volunteer admin staff, we have been able to keep the forums alive.

    Now we must ask for help as available funds have all been used for our Internet server and other fees.

    So please donate any amount to our PayPal account donate@Hipforum.com to keep the site going. If we can get enough for a few months fees, we won't need to nag you again!

    You could also subscribe to the forums and get an upgrade to Supporter or Lifetime Supporter here

    You can dismiss this message by clicking on the X in the upper right corner.

    Thanks! The Hipforums Staff
    Dismiss Notice

Breakdown

Discussion in 'Poetry' started by April90, Aug 11, 2011.

  1. April90

    April90 Member

    Messages:
    78
    Likes Received:
    0
    The smell of Kent
    Failed to bring me to life,
    I felt almost nothing, kept silent like dead.
    The poisoned blade
    Of a sharp kitchen knife
    Was bound to cut me, I dropped it instead.

    It wasn't meant
    To take place then, alas,
    My memories, lurking, denied suicide.
    My guise would fade
    In a half-empty glass
    And you would not even find out I died.

    My swollen pride
    Was revealed in my eyes,
    Yet weakness was hidden behind my eyelids.
    I stayed awake
    To the gloomy sunrise,
    It haunts me at moments when consciousness bleeds.

    My other side
    Is still craving for life;
    These tough contradictions make up my true core.
    Just one mistake
    Fights the urge to survive
    Or live ever after like never before?
     
    April90, Aug 11, 2011
    #1
  1. This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
    By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
    Accept Learn More...
    Dismiss Notice