I hear of stories.
People who barely go out,
no word spoken from their mouth.
Cause what's the point?
Why even try?
When they feel so numb they can't even cry.
And when this feeling becomes too much,
all they can think of to do is cut.
I hear of stories.
I know the truths.
I've met these people,
and so have you.
Cause we all have secrets,
things we try to hide,
so nobody can tell,
whose dying inside.
I hear of stories.
People who are ten months clean.
And on their face is the biggest smile you have seen.
Cause just last year,
before you walked into their life,
they sat in their room,
with thoughts of taking their own life.
And if you weren't there,
cause you thought you couldn't go on too,
then we could have lost more than one person,
we could have lost two.
And i know it's cliche,
it's all been said before,
but there are reasons for living,
you can become so much more.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts from my brain
PoesíaIt's poetic, in a way. This is a mixture of poems and short passages. I'm writing these for myself, I guess, as a way to collect my thought, but I hope you enjoy the little pieces of me you read.
