Poems

End

Tired of

Broken hearts and

Empty words

Friendships going

Away like birds

Of

Bloody sheets

And a broken life

Cutting my wrist

With a knife

I took the gun

Right to my head

Laying the letter

Upon my bed

I tried to shoot

I really did

But the underlying

Emotions that hid

They kept me alive

In my head

Telling me things,

That'd never been said

That I'd be okay

That the pain would end

That I should stay

Alive instead

I wish it would changed,

That I wouldn't relapse

That everything inside me,

Wouldn't collapse

I can't say I'm happy

That I am undead

Because this suffering,

Has yet to end