Never Enough: poems and the endless odds

Standing Up to Fall Down

They always told me,
It's all in your head.
"Get up
Get out of your bed"

I never showed,
The scars on my wrists.
I knew that,
I wouldn't be missed.

"Get your self together,"
They'd always say.
I hoped that one day,
They'd share my pain.

And after I chugged,
That bottle of pills.
I lay on the floor,
Wishing looks could kill.

They showed up at my funeral,
Flowers in hand.
I surely thought,
I had made a stand.

That next week,
I was forgotten.
Six feet under,
My body rotten.

"And who were these people,"
You may ask.
Nobody much,
Just friends of the past.