A belt in my closet
Closed around my throat
All this shit’s blurry
Blacked out,comatose
I can’t see, my body’s tingly
My nose hurts,
I smashed it on something
I can kind of see now,
it’s still really blurry
I’m on the closet floor,
Half a belt round my neck
The other half is still tied to the bar.
I think I almost died.
But it snapped,
Goddamnit.
- Author: Ajax (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: February 25th, 2022 02:23
- Comment from author about the poem: my nose really fucking hurts honestly how hard did i smash it
- Category: Sad
- Views: 21
Comments2
'even this: I can't do right'
is the warped mindset
of those who survive, such tragedies
at least initially, later though
if they heed, their reprieve's
fortunes
they hear that whisper, of noises
only the living can indulge in
and maybe
just maybe, there's enough left
within them
to make something more
out of their lives
than a mere, stat sheet addition
to defeat's, spreadsheet
of all-thing, finality - Bleak...
(I'm just glad such horrific notions are so absurd to you
you make fun of them
it's a healthy sign, hope you never
get to understand
the horror imbued
in these words you share
with your fellow survivors
of such a broken world)
thanks for sharing, dear poet
yeah I tend to use humor to cope with/cover up my emotions lol
While I'm sure this is an exaggeration, I hope you truly don't feel as though this is an life worth escaping. We all hate our lives at one point, it's human to want more than what we've been give, and when we have no known life after death the unknown is more mentally pleasing than the horrors we are forced to live through. Keep your head up and out of that belt, and keep moving along, because eventually it will be worth the tired effort. You will find that happiness, especially when we never feel we can. Your profile is quite fitting this poem as well, that scene messed me up for a week or two.
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