The Art Of Suicide

by Cantchangeme   Jan 1, 2005


All these pretty pictures
Painted in my blood
Open wounds and stitches
You never understood

How my art could be this way
Why my heart still bleeds
After all my blood has drained
And buried beneath your feet

Hearts still bleed forever after death
The breaks will never fix
Even when my corpse is out of breathe
And i lie with a crucifix

All these pretty pictures
You never understood
Open wounds and stitches
Painted in my blood

With my wrist as the palette
I paint you my picture
That different type of soul
An old graphic depicter

But then my dear old father
I thought it better
with the blood in my smile
I left you this letter

Dear dad my day has dawned
Bury me with this smile
The smile i carved myself
Bury me beneath these tiles
Please dad don't shed a tear
Look upon the bright side
I finally did something creative
The Art Of Suicide

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Latest Comments

  • 19 years ago

    by Sean Allen

    "Even when my corpse is out of breathe" should be "breath", "breathe" is the verb. Technically speaking, I thought the rhyming was pretty good, including the slant rhyme of blood/understood.

    What freaked me out most about this poem is the last stanza, specifically the lines:
    "Bury me with this smile
    The smile i carved myself"
    For some reason I get the creepiest (sp?) image when I read those lines. Very interesting work.

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