I walk inside and I'm met with my parents.
They sit me down and begin talking.
they tell me that they had found a razor blade in my bedside table
they ask me what it was for.
I don't answer, my dad yells.
To this day I still question why parents yell at their children when they find out they are hurting.
It doesn't help them.
In fact, it encourages them.
They hurt more, knowing their parents don't truly care.
Their just agitated that their child would ever think about hurting themselves
or death.
Professional help is way too expensive.
why think of something that's so expensive to fix?
I'm sent to my room.
YOU ARE READING
Medicine
PoetryThis is a poem about suicide. If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts, act now. Speak to someone you know that can help you/them. Or contact the international suicide hotline: 988.