No one can fix us,
is anyone aware?
Look behind the broken smiles
don't bully for a dare.
We sit in our rooms, hoping to die
best we can do is let out and cry.
Take a blade to our wrist,
blood running down our arms.
This is the story as to why we self harm.
Voices in our head, demons in our blood,
When will this end, I've had enough.
Everything is okay, everything is fine
sit back relax, smile.. don't cry.
We get called fakers, but can no one see?
My mental illness is killing me.
Sadness is my best friend, music as well
there all I have left as my eyes start to swell.
Non stop crying, nonstop pain,
can't people see this isn't a game.
We all over think, not that we can help it.
but honest to God, life isn't for me
I QUIT.
I have the pills in my hand, or the rope around my neck,
I jump from the chair, wondering what will happen,
as my lungs start to burn, and I gasp for air.
All I see is darkness, no more pain.
It's over for good now,
I'm sorry loved ones for being so vain.
But at least you won't have to see me,
and maybe you're aware,
I am nothing but memories now,
memories of people too naive to care.
- Author: Billie-Jade Locke (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: February 16th, 2018 14:20
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
- Users favorite of this poem: Anonymous Human
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