November 7, 2016


Last Night …


last night I cut my wrists

both of them, in the dark

off the edge of the bed

where no one could see

that life ebbed out of me

put a blade to my throat too

just for good measure

make sure the job was done

that others had begun


though the blade was flesh

the cut went as deep

as if metal had been used

the act as real, I as dead


pleading that my Saviour

save my life, let me live




Last Night ...
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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