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Kaitlynn Murray Dec 2019
Although it may seem
like the presents under the tree
Are what matter most to those you love
You may be looking in the wrong direction

Presents are objects
Left unused and broken
Never to be seen again

Yet the day you wake up,
The smell of breakfast or the music playing
Is a memory more worth keeping

Or the night before,
The books you read
or the games you play
Will forever be saved in your head

The feeling of excitement
As you get out of bed
To wake the family you love
Not the presents wrapped in red

So as you get up this day
Remember those years
And cherish it the next
So you remember the Christmas cheer
Kaitlynn Murray Jun 2017
My tear ducts began to burn,
The sensation turns into a steady fall of tears
As a gloss comes across my eyes, I began to wonder what I have done wrong,
Who I hurt and how me being alive is so god awfully wrong.
As tears roll down my cheeks my veins began to  protrude out of my skin.
They call to me, they want to be free
I quickly grab a cold metal blade and began to draw a straight line.
I start with the creases at my wrist and work my way down, the pain burns,
Nothing will ever quite burn as bad as it did that night.
I put my arms into the deep water that lay before me as it began to turn a blood stained red.
I panic, but soon begin to calm.
The water is completely red now, my toe nail polish which was once a bright white, so pure, had been stained a dark, screaming red.
I'm calm, my eyes glazed like a dark night sky.
My skin begins to turn a pale white, I exhale my final breath, and the dark water lie still.
Suicide
Kaitlynn Murray Jun 2017
Im swimming
The water's deep but I can touch.
I happily swim among beautiful arrays of colorful individuals in the gorgeous ocean blue.
As the days, months, and years multiply the water gets deeper, and darker
This murky color begins to take over and soon the blue is no longer apparent
I try to swim but I began to sink.
It's too deep,
There are bricks tied to my feet and I begin to drown, trying, gasping for air.
I soon become consumed and the water turns black. I no longer can see. I no longer struggle.
Depression

— The End —