By Jane Harrison, fox.carter@misty2.freeserve.co.uk
Date: 27 January 1999

Suicide Poem

I'm feeling low and I'm in the the bathroom and i'm staring at the knife in my
 hand. how did i get here and where will i go and will i like it. i loved you
 but you you left me youleftme and now i still love you more than ever and i
 wish i could kill her and feel her neck beneath my hands and hear her trachea 
crunch as i apply pressure but i don't want to hurt you even though the hurt 
you caused me is searing like a serrated blade through my heart and the blood 
is thick and gushing. you left me so now i'm low and staring at this life in my
 hands and i know i can never get you back i'm thinking that it might change
 you might change but now i'm thinking it won't and i'm confused and mad and 
tired and torn apart and i just want ot rot away in hell and kill her by
 stamping on her face and spitting on her and her choking on my spit but
 that'll never happen because i don't want to hurt you but you don't care. now
 i'm rambling and i know it but i'm scared as hell and so in love with you so
 tell me you love me and end this pain for me and let me live. i wish i could
 fly and kill her and i wish she would bleed green so even you could see that 
she is no good for you and that she is not real. i'm not crazy and even if i am
 crazy people need love and understanding but all i have is a knife and i'm 
staring at it hard now and i begin to use it but hesitate so it looks real and
 not fake. i'll write you a poem of my thoughts and maybe you'll read it and
 maybe you'll know that i never stopped loving you until i died and that i
 didn't even stop after this either. i float away to hide forever.