What if I died?
What would you do?
Would you care?
Would you feel gulity
because you were NEVER there?
Would you actually know me?
Of course not.
If you did,
you would have known.
But would you have tried to stop it
is my question.
Is the only thing you would say is:
"She died so young"?
But no,
you're wrong.
I lived so many lives.
And NONE of them were my own.
How do you think that makes me feel?
I had to live someone else's life
to feel something.
to do something.
I can't even live as me.
So, no.
I wasn't too young.
I was just too late.
And so were you.
YOU ARE READING
Voices
PoetryAll my suicidal poetry, that I've written, put together in one. © All Rights Reserved. 2014.