The voices inside my head always tell me:
"You're just one person. "
"No one cares about that pain that you're hiding behind your melanin. "
"There's no reason to question your sanity - everyone thinks you're crazy behind the shadows and whispers of your being. "
" Damn you, little girl. "
" This world is gonna eat you alive."
I fight them. I don't want to believe them, but I'm trapped in a cell, but I know what they think of me.
I know what you think of me.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
