WARNING THIS IS A GRAPHIC SUICIDE POEM
I can't breathe
Someone help me
My lungs won't work only my eyes with tears streaming down from them observe.
I want to scream.
Not for my self but for you.
You think I'm mad at you and truthfully I am.
At least a little
But I'm more mad at it
The driving force that shoves both of us towards self destruction. It eats away at insecurity and anxiety alike. I'm mad at it for destroying you in front of me and I'm mad at me for not doing anything to stop it.
Guilty by association, my fault.
I fell asleep when you needed me,
I should have listened harder
I could have been there to physically stop you,
I knew I needed to help you
And I didn't.
My fault
Words I repeat so frequently.
Maybe I should have it engraved on my tomb stone
When I finally get to leave,
maybe I should just cut it short
maybe I should just run away from you
Maybe I should leave this earth
Maybe my scars aren't deep enough to remind you
Maybe I need more scars to show you
Maybe I need help
Maybe you do too
Maybe I should make everything easier and just die already because what's the damn point anymore?!
When the knife hits the skin you've already lost the battle. So what's the point in fighting a loosing war? I love you but I can't save both of us and I'd rather see myself fall than to let you go. I'd rather take every deep cut you make into my skin than yours. I can't do it though. I can't save you and I'm so scarred I'm going to loose you that maybe it's better for me to leave so atleast you don't have me around to hurt you anymore. All I know is, I have some scars to make. Because it's my fault after all.
