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Lilyanne Ballard Oct 2011
How did I get to this point in my life?
About to give up, because of this strife.
How did I get here about to do this?
Was there something in my life that I missed?
Wind in my hair, toes at the edge.
I look down past this ledge.
With one little nudge I'll be free.
It will only take a second for my life to flee.
Here I go, about to do it.
To just give up, to just ***** it.
I start to lean, I start to fall.
I can almost hear my death call.
It ****** that my life had to be this ******,
But in the end I was happy.
Lilyanne Ballard Oct 2011
I sit here looking at the clock,
While time passes with every tick - tok.
With every second I grow older, and start to die.
I just want to give up, I just want to cry.
That's why I sit here writing this letter,
Because after what I'm about to do...
Things will be somewhat better.
I go and get my friend out of it's hiding place,
And lock the door just in case.
I start drawing on my arm with my blade,
As my life slowly fades.
Images are racing.
My heart is pacing.
I start to drift into my endless sleep,
And I here a faint floor board creek.
There's banging at my door, and yelling of my name.
But I have to say, I feel no shame.
You are the reason I made myself do this,
You made my life a living hell "Oh Mommy dearest."
Tick - toc, tick- toc is all I hear,
As my life slowly disappears.
I wrote this a few years ago, when I hit a deep depression. I have since come out of it, but these poems are a sharp reminder, as well as my scars, as to what I went through.

— The End —