THREADING THE TWINE

Blind with despair, I untangle the vines
And despondently prepare for threading the twine.
An umbilical connection to death and beyond this world.
The pain of being born is looked upon with scorn
From eyes deep within, as I feel the noose tighten just below my chin.
At last I'll be free from the burdens of being.
My meaningless birth forgotten as I hang from my rope
rigid and rotten.
How am I going to look with my tongue hanging out
and my face turning black? Sinuous declivity…
A conveying suicide, mine own murderer.
With the slipknot behind my left ear,
I anticipate choking to death slowly.
But with a crushed spinal cord and a broken neck
And violent shudders I asphyxiate.
A foul stench of death will follow as I simultaneously
urinate, ejaculate, and defecate from convulsive spasms.
My garroted desistance exhibits ill sentiments towards
All those subsisting contently.
A petechial admonition encompasses my face
From bursting blood vessels and oxygen starved cells.
Behold the V-shaped bruise on my neck!
Or will a violent jerk cause decapitation?

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