A Subtle Way of Dying

Clenched fist
I will pound
the wall,

blaming
myself
for the tears
that rolled down
the world's cheeks.


With all fingers
pointed
at me,

this suffering
in my chest
would never

equal


the anguish
I inflicted
upon
the hearts
of those wo cared.

No penance
would be enough
to save
my decaying soul.

And with each drop
of my blood
that will stain
the wall,

I will cry
my apologies


to the heavens.


No matter
how much
it would hurt,

I will keep
pounding

until this gash



on my forehead



stops




bleeding.