Locked door,
Blood drips into the floor.
Tears full my eyes
As I scribble out my last goodbyes.
Farwell life, I've had enough.
They said I lied, it was all a bluff.
But tell me if my pail face is a lie.
They all thought I was fibbing until I finally die.
YOU ARE READING
Poems, depression, suicide and me.
Poetryall of these poems are mine so please don't steal them (: some of these, scratch that, most of these are going to be triggers.
