"The tears steam down my face,
My heart begins to face
I pick up the blade ever so gently,
And press it to my skin so intently
I watch as the blood begins to pour,
Drip, drip, drip, onto the floor
I begin to question what I've done
This way of living isn't fun
I cannot live in this hell anymore
So I just let myself hit the floor
They find me in the morning completely dead,
With a bullet in my head."
~Unknown
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Hello
PoetryA collection of poems and stories for the broken, lost, afraid, recovery, heartbroken, depressed, and many more. *Trigger warning possibly for some of these*
