Broken Mirror
The saddest note I ever wrote
Was right before I slit my throat
My words were high, my thoughts were dry
And something in me had to die
I reached into my heart and poured
My soul to a muse I so adored
I knew I’d lost her late one day
And thought about some bloody blade
I cried my eyes and cut all ties
Contemplated life, knew it a lie
I gave it all, yet much too late
Didn’t believe in myself, let alone fate
So into the bathroom I did crawl
And curled into a fetal ball
I cried again, but not to gloat
Then dragged the blade across my throat
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