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Elliot Dec 2017
I cannot feel,
this isn’t real.
I can’t get out!
I can’t get out!

I swallow the pills,
‘cause he tells me it kills.
Still can’t get out!
Still can’t get out!

Stomach’s pumped,
contents discharged.
I can’t get out!
I can’t get out!

Doctor says it’s severe
then why am I still here?
Come get me out!
Come get me out!
Elliot Sep 2017
I got on the windowsill
Because I had lost my will.
I was glad
To have a chance at ending the bad.

Yet, I was hesitant
Even though I felt so irrelevant.
There was a lump in my belly keeping me alive,
By telling me that one day I’d strive.

The inner battle began,
I wanted to follow my plan.
But the lump grew bigger and bigger,
Telling me to regain my vigor.

What should I do?
Say my last adieu?
I couldn’t bear the pain any longer,
But in my belly the lump was growing stronger.

The lump known as hope
Is the only thing enabling me to cope.
Hope makes the terrible seem bearable,
Makes us believe that the unbearable is reparable.

Hence, I got off the windowsill.
Elliot Jul 2017
I am tired of conforming
I am tired of smiling
I am tired of covering up
I am tired of pretending
I am tired of fighting
I am tired of being tired
I am tired of life
Elliot Jul 2017
Dear Chocolate,

You come in many shapes and sizes,
Sometimes with fillings full of surprises.
Whether you're dark, brown or white
You never fail to make my day bright.

Now that you're so close at hand,
I'm finding it hard to withstand.
I'm sorry, you're too good of a bait
It's now time for me to annihilate.

— The End —