...Too late.

As I slip out my pocket knife, I start thinking about what could've been.
I sharpened the blade until my mind believed it was good enough.
Without much strength, my heart wandered through the thoughts in my mind-the wrong decisions, the unreasonable thoughts, the evil.
I blow off the dust on the blade and lift it to the light.
I envy the shine and jerk it to a different angle, there it is, my own face.
The deep overstressed eyes that were lost.
I jerk the knife a second time, this time to a different spot, one in which can only be seen with someone else's eyes, but not my own.
Filled with uncertainty, I draw it closer to my neck.
I can sense the fear in my heart as my mind is willing to finish it.
The blade is so close I can feel it starting to tear through my pale skin as I shake uncontrollably.
Closing my eyes, I put pressure on the knife towards my kneck and finally cut through right before I drop it.
I can't go on, that's the furthest my soul will let me go.
I open my eyes and fall over.
Laying across the room is a mirror posessing my reflection with blood traveling across my carpet.
At that moment, realization hit me.
..but it was too late.

neh..some writing i wrote in november `o3. sorry about the length. by that piece of writing, how old do i seem to be?

aww
well it seems like you were... i ono cant tell age from writing. but, all i can say is that this could be a real hting tho... i mean, alot of people realize when its too late good job

I felt a shiver going down my spine when I read the last line. It's really god writing. I can't tell how old you are but you sound mature.

heh thanks..yeah, when i wrote that i was erm..suicidal?..i kind of regret that part of my life but it's been an improvement on my level of my understanding. so it's all good.