Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Jan 2018 no one
imperfectwords
"I can see my door, my bed, my window, my chair, and my table.

"I can feel my spine against the wall, my feet against the floor, my jaw tightly shut, and my fingernails buried in my arms.

"I can hear the wind coming in from the open window, my heartbeat rapidly thumping, and that familiar voice in my head, shouting once again.

"I can smell the dampness of the ground outside as the breeze carries it to my room, and the sickly sweet odor from the soap used on my hands.

"I can ******* blood spilling from the bite in my lip; my last harsh reminder that
        I
        am      
        still
        alive.
When you call a suicide prevention hotline, they will often ask you to describe to them 5 things you can see, 4 things you can feel, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste to help ease anxiety. I hope this poem helps someone struggling to look forward, because believe me, it does get better.
  Jan 2018 no one
Samantha
Tell me who you are.
Tell me what makes you tick.
Do you like the sound of rain?
Or do you prefer the sun?
Do you eat dessert for breakfast?
Or breakfast for dinner?
Is coffee what you crave in the morning?
Or is your first thought a nicotine fix?
Do you sleep peacefully?
Or do you lay awake tormented?
Do your skeletons dance in the closet?
Or do ghosts hide under your bed?
Do you prefer the storm?
Or revel in the stars?
What do you need to get through your day?
And do you think I could ever be one of those things?
no one Jan 2018
three nights ago,
you were in my bedroom,
loving me,
kissing me,
helping me.

two nights ago,
you were in her bedroom,
loving her,
kissing her,
helping her.

one night ago,
you were in your bedroom,
neither loving her or me,
neither kissing her or me,
neither helping her or me,
because we both let you go.
no one Jan 2018
think happy thoughts they say,
and the bad ones will disappear.
and my question to you is how?
how am I supposed to stay happy,
when my thoughts are telling me that i'm
a **** up,
a mess,
a ****,
an idiot,
a *****,
a fatty,
ugly,
a failure,
and i'm never gonna succeed?

just tell me how

is it by completely hiding the fact,
that i have not-so-great thoughts?
is it by spilling out my thoughts,
to a person in a white coat,
so they can write it down on a clipboard,
and give me happy pills?

because it's not that easy.
yet people tell me every day,
it's not hard.
i just chuckle at them and say,
you don't understand.

— The End —