My head-
pounding,
I am walking down the hall,
remembering my last night at home.
“It's for your sake, you'll get better”
no.
Crying,
black tears on my cheeks,
numb hands,
shaky breath.
“I love you Honey”
no.
I am alone,
my wrists sore,
my eyes red,
out of breath.
“I can't wait until you come back!”
no.
Dying,
memories on my mind,
a rope in my hand,
pills in my pocket,
a knife in my sock,
I am done.
“Goodnight princess”
yes.
Sweet dreams.
And with that I pulled out my pills,
carved my thoughts into my skin,
tied my rope,
and let it all go.
It won't get better tomorrow.
It said on my skin.
Because in a life like mine,
it won't get better tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
The World In My Words
PoetryThese are my stories, they are my words and my thoughts and my feelings. It takes time to turn tragedy into art. This is my corrupted world in words. This is a message from the breathless. Can you read between the lines?
