I cut myself, I call it the cutting game
Watch the scares heal and cut again
Cutting out all the pain
Cutting the surface but the inner struggle stays the same
Idolized a few who held their destiny by the horns
You tie your laces, tying nooses is their porn
To raise hell, for what more were they born
They say watch out for roses, watch out for they have thorns
Holding on, it won't be long til this ride is over
A two tailed coin is what it is, I'd rather the end be closer
blue in the face as the sky, as the wind blows through my composure
Gift and a curse, I'm glad I leave it all when it's over
Suicide is an option, I think about it
CSI as I see a clearer side
No sewer slide but the stench of How I feel inside
I cut myself and lie on what I feel is pride
- Author: June Winter (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: July 13th, 2022 01:41
- Comment from author about the poem: I think we all have a suicide experience, be it active or inactive or from someone close. Sometimes we feel like blaming the victims or blaming ourselves for missing the signs, suicide is impulsive behaviour but it is normally a dance before they leap. I wanted to urge more people out there to not ignore the signs and find ways to deal with the situation before it\\\'s too late.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 25
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.