My collection of poems.

My Own Personal Hell.

When your chest is so heavy

Heaving in dwelth

So heavy you can barley speak

Barley think

Barley function as we speak.

When you think of the stash

The stash that you cherish as though your life source

The bottle of pills lying on your bed, the box of razors hidden under them

The sparkling red liquid that flows down your heavily scarred wrist.

But you through it all away, The day it all began,

the day it all began,

The names they called you took you away

Your once perfect haven slowly turned into your own personal hell.

One day you started questioning the one thing they all eventually do,

Your likes, your dislikes, your heavily beliefs.

The day the story of Adam and Eve turned into Adam and Steve was the day your world came crumbling down,

The walls of flame became un-climbable and the one and only Satan welcomed you to your own personal hell.

Day after day the flames grew, higher and hotter, slowly torching your skin

It eventually got to the point where you tied a stylish ribbon, double knot, silky fabric across your beautifully scarred wrist, hidden from the average keen eye,

Your nifty art work created with love and passion is now despised like an ugly fashion.

That bottle of pills

that once opened daily

out of a handful of excuses,

No one knows your reasons, the voices or the pain.

Killing yourself slowly, from the inside out,

Until your chest slowly filled with helium, and for that time you were truly happy,

Until the helium slowly deflated, That broken heart, your mother never warned.

When your mates suddenly were a mile ahead and you had no way of transportation,

That box of blades with fine sharp tips, became your only 'cquaintance.

But the rain started to pour, the flames started creasing, and the once smoke filled night turned into a now colour filled sky.

Your friends realized they were wrong

All but one waited for your footsteps to catch up,

The box of razors were now nothing but a distant friend,

The pill bottles now emptied in the trash and a small smile planted on thy's lips.

The flames still secretly lurking behind you, but you Must not let them catch up

Your chest still heavy but a few hundreds letters could solve.

You found out who was there for you.

Your own personal hell trailing behind you stepping on your heals,

You have a bad feeling,

but this time your ready, to come face to face with your own personal hell once again.