sometimes i feel you view me as less
that you’ll ******* away
that i go away when the sun comes up
you treat me like a lesser copy of you
but i don’t want to be you.
when you took your life, it was your last thoughts
what will your friends say, how will they act
will the jokes go on or will the petty drama cease.
do you cause a rift in their friendship or do they grow closer because of you.
you’re grandma cries out your name, you’ve never seen her cry
is this how she reacts? Is this what she says
your younger sister, lost, alone, you left her.
she feels sick. she has no best friend.
what does she say but I don’t want to live if you don’t.
How does she react?
Do the teachers at your school care? Do they miss you. What do they say, how do they react. When you’re there one day and gone the next.
How do your cousins who are to young to understand death miss you? Do they remember you? Will they remember you?
How does your mom live with the guilt that she feels it’s on her, she cries out for help.
Is this how you want her to feel? Is that what you want her to say?
When you’re gone they can’t hear you calling out to then telling them you’re ok.
When you left the world you weren’t ok.
When you asked you’re self how would they react, you reminded yourself this was a mistake.
i wrote this to help myself one day I felt, I had no more but this helped me see the good.
wish i could tell u
wish you could know
you’d hate me
not love me
and eventually hate me but what’s new
wished i wasn’t gay
you wish it too
i wish my life didn’t depend on you
( i wrote this on another website but i think i should share here too)
someone once told me
i was a butterfly
they said you’re beautiful and you’ll never see it.
maybe i’m meant not to see it
maybe i have no reason here
maybe the reason why i’ll never see i’m “beautiful” is because i won’t miss myself when i die.
i wont care.
who cares if i die?
who cares about the day i’ll lose, the day that i’ll leave my house
the day i’ll return to a new home
the place everyone calls hell
the place where all depressed freaks go
the place where i’ll call home;
there comes a time where
everyone moves on
two steps; one
but i suddenly am starting to think.
i need to move on
and take 18;
— The End —