CAMHS
"Come with me."
I'm all alone.
Walking away from my dad in the waiting room.
Upper floor of GP -
Unfamiliar ground.
Unnatural feeling in my stomach.
Heart beating.
Stomach churning.
Form filling.
Clock ticking.
Watching the hands.
Not just a regular clock.
The hands are a pair of scissors.
Slooowly rotating.
Tormenting me
Reminding me of why I'm here.
"Some of the questions I ask might be slightly hard to answer"
That's fine.
I've talked about this before with friends.
Think about it all the time.
I can handle it.
"Have you ever had suicidal thoughts?"
My heart stopped for a second
then beats faster than before.
Why is that the first question?
If I say actively they'll tell my parents.
Lock me up in a hospital somewhere.
In a padded cell.
Plucked from freedom
"... and exactly what methods of self harm do you use?"
Breathe.
Inhale fire.
Exhale desire.
Breeaathe...
"You cut? So what exactly do you use to cut, when you're cutting?
Stop saying that word.
Pencil sharpeners?
Don't say that.
Razor blades?
Don't say that.
I look around for something to say.
The clock.
The blades now closer together.
'Scissors' I say.
Next question.
I pause.
"Are you okay__?..."
You say my name again.
Making me shiver.
The tone is soft but...
Underneath it feels-
Scary.
Like a shark trying to make friends with a fish.
One wrong move and it could all end in disaster.
The feeling makes me uncomfortable
I can't take it.
I'm given a phone number.
"Call me if and when you feel you're about to end your life"
'Okay'
I say.
Well that isn't going to happen.
Why would that work?
'Oh yeah I'm about to jump off this building like Sherlock.
I thought I should phone you and let you know.
Nothing you say or do will stop me.
So... thanks I guess.
Bye'
YOU ARE READING
Poems with a twist
PoetryWhen I get to my lowest I write these. Let's hope I never have to use them. (Or not) If you are a lucky enough to be part of this (you will know if this applies) , then congratulations, your existence has made a big enough effect on my life to be me...
