I can no longer tell wrong from right.
With every moment I grow higher and higher.
With every pill and cut I lose some more of the fight.
Suddenly death doesn't seem like a bad thing.
Grit my teeth and prepare for another sting.
Watch the blood as it drips.
Smiling as consciousness slips from my grip.
Then do it over and over again.
Not satisfied until my skin is replaced with crimson.
After awhile you get tired of living.
The names are nothing compared to bruises.
Kicks and punches being thrown telling you you're useless.
The anger fuels the blood to pour and the pills to kick in.
The only person who cares that your life is slipping is asleep.
With no final thought besides crashing to the ground.
You are satisfied until you realize,
Your attempts failed yet again.
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A/N this poem is dedicated to someone special. I hope you know who you are...remember don't end it it will get better :)
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My Poems
PoesíaA collection of poems reflecting life. Contains scenes of depression, anxiety, suicide. Probably not updated frequently. *CAUTION MAY CONTAIN MATERIAL NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNG READERS* *TRIGGER WARNING: CERTAIN THINGS WROTE HERE MAY TRIGGER DEPRESSION...
