watching the virgin suicides
it makes my wrists hurt
i see myself in cecelia's eyes
the hurt and the pain
though i was always more of a pill popper
than a wrist slitter
watching the virgin suicides
my hands shake
mostly my right one
fingers trembling in tune to the beating
of my heart
bound to rip out of my chest
watching the virgin suicides
i feel the luke warm bathtub water
sloshing over my thighs
as i sat there
with the blade in my shaking hands
imaging the red water that remained clear
watching the virgin suicides
my head hurts
my chest tightens
i feel like crying
maybe dying
just resting for a little while
watching the virgin suicides
i thank god that i told someone
before it got any worse
the months spent cutting and overdosing
in silence
now i just regret them
watching the virgin suicides
i think of all my friends
that have hurt themselves or attempted
think of about how i am one of them
and a text message or a blog post
is a pretty shitty way to say goodbye
watching the virgin suicides
feeling like i am one of them
knowing what the signs look like
like the back of my hand
i am so glad
i have yet to become a statistic
YOU ARE READING
These Four Walls
PoesíaMore poetry. Happier, this time. It's kind of forced. But, hey. I'm teaching myself new tricks. And, I wanted to say thank you to the people that have helped me along the way. Hopefully, you will continue to hold my hand when the going gets rough. S...
