My Unstable Poetry

Suicide

This is a word that came upon me

The trail of the year where it began

It's what I want to commit

A wrath of cold is taking over

People read this

Seriousness is all this is

A list of numbers in my contacts

Memory being wasted

Those numbers make me have something to look forward too

Getting tripped and lied to in life is not good

I'll probably get questions

I'm to scared

For the things

Yellow stuff carving into my neck and myself losing me

A knife stabbed into me with likeliness

Gas shoved up my nostrils

No one knows

Except you.

The brave one

No secret bethrothed

Hard life sorrowful

Shaping me like a cookie cutter

Words smoothed like paper

I want that to never end

I AM FIGHTING

Someone who I never thought I would

Myself.