Silently

Sitting 'neath a weeping willow,
By this undisturbed lake,
My heart continues to break.
I continue looking out at the lake,
While my fingers fiddle with the razor in my lap.
I've made up my mind,
This time I'll die,
No one here to rush and take the razor from my hands.
I lean back against the tree,
The cool crisp autumn air whispers past the drooping leaves,
The sweet smell of earth floods my senses,
And I wonder.
Why does life smell so sweet when you are about to lose it?
I wonder if anyone has noticed my absence.
Before I make the actual cuts,
I carve a message in my arms.
"You see the way you've treated me?"
Says my right.
"Has made me do what I've done."
Says my left.
I carve tear shapes in my legs,
And one broken heart.
With blood running down my arms and legs,
I make the final cuts.
As my blood waters the ground,
My soul sinking into this willow tree that it may live forever.
I look toward the sky,
And silently I cry,
While I slowly die.