Dear every person who says metal illness is not a valid enough reason for not being able to attend school normally,
Tell that to the kids counselor, the school nurse, the paramedics, and the friend that walked them to the office on the day of their overdose.
Say that to the kids who saw them sleep during first and second period, say that to the kid who is asleep in every block.
Tell that to their teacher who had to talk them out of suicide on a school night.
Tell that to their biology teacher who say them break down during a suicide prevention assembly.
Tell that to their housemates who have heard them call suicide hotlines.
Tell that to their old teachers who tell them, they look so alive now compared to how dead they looked their sophomore year.
Say that to any of their friends who have had to talk them out of suicide.
Say that to any friend who has tried to calm them down.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Withered Writing
PoetryI write because my soul lies beneath the ink. And with every slip of my pen, sparks return to exhale passion and reason into my writing. (This book has become my therapy, and it will either lead me to get better. Or lead me to death.)
