Depression is like walking backwards
Taking the blades off the floor
Hanging the rope back on
Locking my bedroom door
Getting my dad’s shotgun
Increasing my deadly desire
Serving myself a cup of bleach
Thinking of all the times I’ve bled
As I point the shotgun to my head
My shaky fingers on the trigger
But voices stop me
Whispering “Life will get better”
So I put the weapon back down
And bandage my wrists
I cut the rope in half
And throw the liquid in the sink
If life will get better then I’m willing to wait
But I hope doesn’t take too long
Because I’m easy to break...
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Sorry for the late update, been handeling many life issues, but now I'm back to being active again, I wrote this poem long ago but I never had the chance to post it, anw here it is! And yeah life WILL get better, you see a person I didn't know much but knew about comitted suicide two days ago, I wish I helped her though, and she wanted to share her story with the world, so I'll be posting it in the next update, probably tmrw! Anw have a nice day/rest of the day/night!!
