{warning: this poem deals with depression, self harm, and suicide. Please read carefully and understand that depression and everything that comes along with it is not a joke, nor something to be romanticized.}
One
Thought started it all
Two
Thoughts made me remember it
Three
Cuts made me wince
Four
Cuts made me smile
Five
Days I regretted it
Six
Days later I did it again
Seven
Cuts I did this time
Eight
I lied
Nine
Weeks later it was a addiction
Ten
Weeks later I gave up trying to stop
Eleven
Weeks later my parents found out
Twelve
Weeks later they signed me up for therapy
Thirteen
Times I yelled at them
Fourteen
Times I was secretly thankful
Fifteen
Weeks later things were getting better
Sixteen
Weeks of feeling good until things got bad
Seventeen
Time I tried to stop
Eighteen
Times I thought about how
Nineteen
Minutes is how long it took to a write a note
Twenty
Pills I took
{m}
YOU ARE READING
Perfect Kind of Hell
Poetry'The torture of loving you was addicting You were like a drug that was forever in my veins Your harsh words did nothing but make me crave you more And your cruel hands did nothing but make me want to please you Everyone told me you were hell, an...
