The Attraction of the end

Thea

The trickle of blood can be so intriguing.
Just as bullets can enchant a weakened mind.
They can pull at the heartstrings or create butterflies in your stomach.
Even scramble your mind, preventing you from speaking.

To a weak mind, even the simplest of ropes can look so comforting.
Your stomach drops as you feel like your falling through space.
You stand so high and in an instant your feet are almost on the floor.
And you look down to see your thoughts leave you and your floating through darkness.

Many find the view a top a building or cliff to be picturesque.
They stand and spread their arms, breathing in deeply, ready to take just one step.
That’s all it takes and they are soaring, gliding down towards the ground.
As they lay their head down, the coolness of the pavement contrasts with the warmth of their blood.

But my favourite, the one that appeals to my state of mind, my state of panicked and fragile mind.
The sleek, cool, shiny piece of silver metal.
The one that can be held in the palm of your hand and it brings rubies from your skin and with it happiness.
It numbs your senses, and the pretty face that others have grown fond of is drained of colour.
It goes white and pale before finally, all that is left is a smile.
A smile because you feel you have done the world a lot of good in your act.

Because it does my heart a world of good, to see my own body in a box of wood.