Life of Death

Forgotten

I cry for help but I always get forgotten.

"I'll get you a counsellor" says my mum.
A year later and nothing has been done, I've been forgotten.

"We'll always be here for you" they say.
They stick around a week and then run off to find someone better, I've been forgotten.

After 3 weeks of exposed wrists, someone finally notices the fresh cuts. They tell the school counsellor...nothing, I've been forgotten.

It took all the courage I had to tell someone I started making myself throw up, they shrugged it off like it was nothing and I guess it was. The subject was never brought up again, I've been forgotten.

They thought I had stopped using the blade, little did they know I never stopped. It came in bursts, on and off but I never truly stopped. As soon as they thought I had stopped they left, I've been forgotten...again.

I'm sick of being forgotten, maybe it's time to move on, no one remembers when your dead, maybe it's time to be forgotten forever.