Behind these four walls
I see a man looking for an escape
He grips a knife, looking at possibilities--
Perhaps he'll slash his wrists
And let his love pour open;
Maybe he'll **** the noise
That surrounds his daily fuss;
Either way, I know better
Than to answer the calls of such a man
In the mirror, I see him, say goodbye
And wonder when we'll meet again.

I'm sitting in my bed
Listening to depressing music.
Just like i do every night.
I'm writing the same poem, over and over again.
It's about suicide.
The sweet thought about being dead.

But i've been trying so hard, for so long.
And no one seems to really care about me.
When i talk i am often just ignored.
I'm teased for being different, and when i tell my teachers that i don't feel too well mentally, they're like "oooh you're just so sensitive"

And i just can't take that **** anymore..
Everyone thinks it's so easy to be me, cause i always seem so happy.
But i have a hard time even faking it anymore..

I've tried way too hard, for way too long, to make people like me.
But i'm giving up..

I can't be random and happy
When all I feel is pain
I can't even hide my tears on rain
Nothing I do is sappy
My secrets are only secrets to me
To everyone else, there known as free
I didn't want them to know
I didn't want anyone to know
The horror and distraught expression my face will show
I've told them to leave me alone
I've told them, No!
There taunts and unreasonable torchering make me more prone
I can't take this much longer
Each blow isn't making me any stronger
They say **** it up
They tell me to be strong
Well they should shut up
Don't they know what they're doing is wrong?
I won't say I hate them
Then I would be just as bad
They have themselves to blame
For the life I once had

Her eyes are dark as night
Her arms bruised and scared
Her laugh Is hollow and and smiles fake
They ask why she wears so many bracelets so she giggles and says its fashion
Her name is Chelsea Snow and she is the 'it' girl of school
No one knows her pain no one knows her past
To them she's confident, ****, perfect, and always happy
But she isn't
At the age of 16 Chelsea's parents died
At 17 her boyfriend started to abuse her
2 months after she fell into depression
She isn't as stereotypical as everyone thinks
I guess what I'm trying to say is don't judge a book by its cover