They told you I was stupid,
That I couldn't be worth much.
But they didn't know you were my crutch.
So when you pulled away
And I asked you to stay
It wasn't me being selfish.
I just didn't want to die yet.
But here I am with a blade to my wrist,
Contemplating why I couldn't exist
Without you.
YOU ARE READING
Mistaken
PoetryA book of poems about the LGBT, depression, selfharm, suicide, freedom, and society.
