Poems and thoughts

Girl

There is this girl. She is full of selfhate, there could never be a person that she despises more, than herself. Everyday she wishes someone would come to save her for real. But now she can't see any reason to stay. She couldn't see herself being alive in the next month, or the next week, or even tomorrow. She lays in bed all day mindlessly scrolling through the same three apps hoping for the sweet relief of death to come. It's even hard to just get up to eat or take a shower, so how should she possible go outside? Especially if you're anxious and scared to go outside. She only got hurt by people. No one would stand up for her and no one would be sad if she left. She now got the energy to move her body into a sitting position. Her head is tilted down. All she is thinking is "Please dear god, if you hear me, just save me, please, I need someone." But there are no gods in this world. She sits for a long time. Just staring at the wall mindlessly and romanticizing about death. She thinks about her razors, but she can't even get up to go get them. She pulls up her sleeves, showing all the scars she not only put onto her skin, but also into her heart. There are scars from a hurtful childhood, from hurtful teenage years and wounds from the present. She doesn't feel hurt anymore, she feels isolated. She has this strange feeling in her veins that one gets when they are suicidal. It feels as if the blood screams "please cut your own skin". The girls mind wanders back into the room. Now she sees the noose. She sees the noose, with which she planned to hang herself since she was a kid. She can't remember how many times she went into the woods, having this noose with her in a bag. She had friends every once in a while, telling her she should get help. She always smiled and told them: "I can help myself, I know what I'm doing.", but in the past few month the illness consumed her will to fight. She sits in her bed right now, knowing damn well that she lost her fight. But not now, she doesn't even have the energy to get up and kill herself. She lays back down and glances directly at the sleeping pills, that helped her when she couldn't sleep at all. Now she sleeps the entire day and night. She grabs the pills. Is there no one in her life that would care? Yes there are people who would care. The problem is, that she doesn't care anymore. She takes all the pills and goes to sleep so that she won't throw them back up. It was a nice sleep. It was an endless sleep.