The Next Step.

He pulled it against his head and took a breath,

Heard life around him as precious as she is,

The colours beamed and faded simultaneously,

The despair that took over and warped him

Was the only thing he met that moment

And the one thing he desired to be away from.

The torment of the past pierced his soft skull

Into his fantasy worlds, into his eyes and lungs.

He questioned it one more time, one last chance

But then again, why bother to stop this boring?

He took the last breath, a lost breath,

And gave himself the answer after this life.

                                                                                    

In a split second, the bullet touched his head,

Drilled it like a million desperate leeches,

An ocean of tears drowning his now hollow life.

Everything was extremely light and then heavy,

Dark, empty, a second that dragged forever

As the bullet caved deeper into his brain,

Erasing all as it went by, gentle like a spider.

A burning pain was painted over all his senses,

But a relief also covered his open wounds and scars.

He bled his life out through a small hole

From which Death sucked all his memories.

Escrevi hoje este poema ao ouvir Black Tape For A Blue Girl. É uma resposta... Não. Não ainda, mas uma amostra de uma resposta ao desafio que o Sr. Palimpsesto me lançou. Uma tentativa de fazer descrições de emoções e de as trasnsportar para quem as lê. Obras como as de Chuck Palahniuk foram exemplos para perceber esta forma de escrita, ainda que não tenha lido nada dele. Apenas falámos deste autor.

Este poema fala de um homem à beira do suicídio. Descreve os últimos segundos da sua vida. Sendo a maior parte uma fracção de segundo, a segunda estrofe. Quando comete suicídio.