Momma why can't you see?
Why can't you see that in this desolate wasteland called my brain I am struggling to break my self constricting chains?
Why can't you realize that the snake wrapped around my throat has forbade the taboo subject of the scars on every inch of my body. The body that you have given to me.
Why can't you process that when I say "I want to kill myself" that I mean it, momma. You tell me that if I ever say it again that I'll be grounded, but for what? Just so that I'll be trapped in my barren cave surrounded by the light of a single lamp. Awake by my dangerous thoughts, wishing that someone would call me theirs.
Momma I just want to be loved, I just want someone to be there for me while you never are, momma.
Depression has me enclosed within a cell debating to let me drown in a glass of suicide, but you don't see it momma.
Momma, I'm crying for help. I want to let myself smother in the firey red flames that are my own thoughts. Momma listen to me.
Momma you're walking away telling me I'm overreacting when I just want to be heard. My mental health is walking out the door to go to a party with the rest of my emotions, to discuss the plan that they have for me.
The grief stricken note that is gonna be left on my porcelain white desk when the plan that they had discussed is put to action, momma this is what I was warning you about.
I can't control anything that is happening momma, I need help. But you never saw.
Depression filled my lungs and left me coughing up blood due to the amount of times I was punched in the stomach by my own brain.
Momma I'm hurting myself and you know this. You're in denial, momma. Please get me out of here.
Do you not care?
She doesn't care.
Stop it, I'm sure she does.. she's my own mother.
When has she listened to you when you needed her most?
She's had a lot on her plate...
I'm sure that children come first, Kira.
You don't know anything, you've only been here since the beginning of middle school.
For that's all I needed to be here for. If your mother and family truly gave a shit about you, they would have gotten you help.
They would've noticed the fresh scars on your hands.
stop..
They would've noticed that you aren't eating.
Stop.
They would've told you that it's going to be okay.
They would've encouraged you to meet Ethan.
They would've supported your choice to go to Art school.
They would've seen the signs of depression, your mother is a therapist for gods sake.
Your family doesn't give a shit.
Stop.
End it.
Stop... please.
You're bending to my will. Go ahead, keep writing the last thing anyone will ever remember about you.
Stop.
It's so easy to get you to break. You're only 14 and willing to take your own life just to make everyone happy. What a fucking loser.
Do it.
Take the last pill, Kira.
You've already gone off the deep end. Might as well keep falling until you hit the bottom.
I will.
