You watch as the blood from my wrist trickles onto your carpet.
Paying no mind until it starts to stain
I whisper,
"I'm sorry; please help me"
You roll your eyes and usher me out
of your comforting, inviting home
into the cold, desolate outside.
Crimson tears form in my eyes
raising my voice,
"I need your help!"
Instead, you give me an ignorant smile
before you slam the door.
An incomprehensible scream for acknowledgement exits my body
Peering through the window,
I see you cover my bloodstain with a rug.
You would rather act as if it never existed
than try to stop the blood or simply clean the stain.
I'm now outside;
being left to rot in the earth
So instead I will stain your flower bed.
Here's the meaning I got from my poem. From personal experience, people to like to act like there's a problem with your depression or suicidal tendencies until it bleeds into their lives. Then, they act still barely acknowledge the problem and try to erase from their lives. They don't try to help us when we need it more than ever. It's about what we really need. We need someone to acknowledge that we have a problem and make strides to help that problem instead of acting as if nothing happened. The poem is saying that it's better for people to help those in pain than to be ignorant. If you don't, then it just ends up causing the stain to get bigger and more public.