So many times I've held Them in my hands
Knives
Pencils
Pills
Lighters
Ice
What do they all have in common?
Yeah, I'm hurting
Yeah, I've experimented
Yeah, I have scars
Not noticeable
Not to anyone but me
I've held Them in my hands
And yet, I can't do it
I've tried, too many times
Far too many times.
I can't go farther
I can't push myself
I can't stop my stomach punches
I can't stop throwing up
I can't stop the migraines
I can't stop passing out
I can't stop trying
But every time
I stop Them
Because I'm a coward.
YOU ARE READING
My Voice Through Poetry
PoetryDepressed + gay = poetry 🤯 ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING: including (but not limited to) self-harm, abuse, mental hospitals, eating disorders, and suicide.
