There I sat. Right there in the stands. Nothing but a note and a gun in my hand. I look down at my wrists and see nothing but hate. Why is it that I had to butcher myself? People call me crazy. They call me insane. If only there weren't something wrong with my brain. I don't eat. I don't sleep. I let myself bleed. I listen to the voices stuck inside of my head. It's like they're trying to kill me inside this ever lasting dream. But alas. This isn't all in my head. It is but the reality of the true monsters under my bed. I'm broken and shattered. Each piece too small to fix. Nobody can stop me. But nobody cares. My scars are opened now....there is blood, blood, blood. The only sound are the birds singing and the cocking of a gun. Not a single tear is shed as the trigger is pulled. Falling. Falling...with a cracked skull and a quiet brain. Finally at peace. The voices are gone...I am gone.
⊙⊙
Okay.
So this is my first one.
Also. Got this idea from
blackeyedsoul17
She does amazing poems, go follow her and read her shit!
-Caity
YOU ARE READING
I'm Fine
RandomMost of these may be depressing. So this whole thing is a trigger warning. I just have a lot of feelings.