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Kayla S 3d
We've all heard the quote.
We all know it's about taking that risk.
to me, that risk is the note I wrote.
The 'goodbye' video on the disc.

That risk is actually taking that leap.
and some days I regret not doing it.
those days I dig into my emotions real deep.
But i'm glad I didn't commit.
If you have thoughts or someone you know has thoughts about harming themselves or others, please call a support line or 988 (or the hotline wherever you are from.)

Thanks for all the support on this <333 i love y'all
Kayla S 7d
Under the weather.
Cold with A cold do not go together.

Stuffy nose, sore throat and a headache worth mentioning.
Why must the changing seasons be so threatening.

On 3 different OTC meds just to be able to breathe,
Not even the grinch would want to be or see me.

Of course I'm sick right as we're about to travel..
I mean in what other ways could my life possibly unravel?

No appetite and overly tired
Can my immune system be rewired?

I sound like ****, my voice is hoarse.
God refuses to give me remorse.
Oh how I love being sick.. /s
7d · 32
Schizo.
Kayla S 7d
Pacing the dark hallway as the red and blue lights outside my house get closer, I can hear the sirens screaming louder than the voices in my head - I look down at my hands, red - I really killed him.. The smell of copper floods my nose faster than the tears form in my eyes. The front door slams open, yelling.. So much yelling, not just from the police, but from the voices that I can’t do anything about.. They told me to do this, I didn’t do it.


The voices are louder than the world could ever be.
I have to listen to them scream.

All day and all night, I get no break, and no sleep.
Makes you crazy, you know? Makes you feel like a creep.

Physiatrists prescribe meds, Therapists say that I'm *******.
I know I'm not crazy, just ill, and it's not my fault. I was abused.

I can scream back, and whine about it but they won't go away.
No, those ******* voices are here to stay.
Kayla S Nov 6
A star always burns.
Even if it takes years to.
Nothing lasts forever.
Nov 6 · 86
Relapse.
Kayla S Nov 6
8 months clean, relapsing would be collapsing.  

A locked bathroom door, the voices yelling - no, screaming.
I hear my mother running up the stairs, the pounding of her footsteps mimics the pounding inside my head, it's war.

I can feel blood dripping down onto the rest of my body.
The tears stream down my face as I try to let my head create a feeling of melancholy

There's sirens outside now, I know they're for me. You can see the neon purple lights from the window. I'm just waiting, waiting for death to set me free.

On the stretcher with gauze covering up the masterpiece I made to what use to be pristine skin, I close my eyes, reminding myself to stay awake. my hope stretching thin.

The voices of my neighbors, overcome the sounds of mom's sobs. I wish my own mind didn't lock me chambers.
It's my first poem on here and really just me testing my creativity with my own life experiences. I hope whoever sees this likes it! <3

— The End —