My suicide is something I've dreamed of for a while.
My suicide scares me because I do not know what is after.
My suicide is something I have attempted many times but failed.
My suicide is going to be a relief.
My suicide is selfish.
My suicide is going to be by blade to my wrist.
My suicide is a thought that soothes me.
My suicide is going to be hard for the people around me.
My suicide will eventually be forgotten.
My suicide seems blissful but horrible at the same time.









I hope my suicide is soon.

with depression comes manipulation. you end up lying. you lie about how you feel or you let out bits but not whole truths. they believe you.
with self harm comes manipulation. you know you have eight blades but you give up five. you have twelve hiding spaces but you give up eight. they believe you.
with progress becomes manipulation. you use the coping skills and say are helping. you cut in different places. you lie about feeling better and let your emotions out somewhere else

im logging off and deleting hello poetry  no more poems im sorry

im sorry guys,
but this may be my last goodbye.
my mind cant fight anymore.
my body is starting to fall apart too.
what am i supposed to do?
im just tired.
but my mind can't rest.
my family wants me alive and to thrive,
but i don't know how.
im so sorry to everyone.
i don't even know who will read this or care.
but im tired of this and don't know what to do anymore.
maybe ill text a hotline or something idk
its the same thing everytime.
i go to the hospital,
and they treat my wounds,
and admitt me to the psych ward,
and i fake it till they let m go home.
what do i do?
everyone just says keep fighting and it will get better.
i have my blades,
and i have my ways.
why do i have to stay?
i know why i should stay but...
idk

when someone sees your scars or cuts, do they really see?
do they see the metal pain, or do they see the physical pain?

when someone sees your blade do they see the metal that scars your skin, or do they see the words that scar your skin?

when someone sees your tears do they see your sadness, or do they see the demons running around your head causing pain where they step?

when someone sees your progress do they see you using coping skills and no cuts on your wrists, or do they see the feelings you fake and the cuts on your thighs instead?

I don’t understand why suicide is a bad word, it happens daily.
I don’t understand why a suicide would be one persons fault, it never is.
I don’t understand why people say they didn’t do enough, you did everything you could.
I don’t understand why people think they can fix it with a hug and a kiss, it’s a lifelong battle.
I don’t understand why people think cutting is a suicide attempt, it’s an unhealthy way to stay alive.
I don’t understand why people think wanting to die is cool or funny, it’s not.
I don’t understand why people feel the need to stare, it’s just a bandaid.
I don’t understand why they take your blades, it only causes you to search for more.
I don’t understand why people get desensitized to it after awhile, it invalidates your pain.
I don’t understand why it’s attention seeking, we always hide it.
I don’t understand why I stay at the hospitals for days, it never helps.
I don’t understand why I have to keep going, there is no,













point.

On my school laptop certain things are censored
some make sense,
like **** sites, cursing, and violence.
but some don't,
like words such as self harm, depression, suicide
why is it censored,
this addiction, this disease, this ending.
should it be hidden?
should it be kept inside?
should i stop talking?
should i stop writing?
or should it be considered a cry for help when i type the words      s-e-l-f  h-a-r-m, d-e-p-r-e-s-s-i-o-n, s-u-i-c-i-d-e

im sorry
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something most people don't think about when they hear about self harm is shaving. most people who self harm cut. most of the people who cut get their blades from razors. so when people find out the take away the razors. you end up not shaving for months at a time. your leg hair grows out. your armpits look like forests. it doesn't bother you until people make fun of it. you feel like **** about yourself. you beg to shave over and over. you are finally allowed to but when you do you realized there are blades in it. it starts over.

Why do people say this? Is it to comfort you or themselves? When someone tells me that I am not alone I think of the other people that have to feel like this, or worse. It doesn't make me feel better. I wish people didn't have to feel this way.

in my art class
we have ****** brushes to paint
they cant make sharp lines
they don't work because they have been used so much
to the point of fraying
rusted because they never properly dry
stained red from the paints
reminds me of the piece of metal
that i keep close to me
it doesn't make sharp lines
it doesn't work because its been used so much
to the point of dullness
rusted because it never properly dries
stained red from the blood

I'm always so astounded
by my ability to ruin everything
slit my wrists, ****** fists
questioning why I exist
pain persists, evil gifts
******* up my life to ****
I'm worthless, slit my wrists until I bleed out- worthless: eli.

Surprised I didn't go psychotic
But lately the rules I've been braking is huge implications
Cause blood may be thicker than water but it's not thicker than a bottle of Jack- Away: Bmike

I'm not suicidal I don't wanna ******* die / I just wanna be able to close my eyes and feel alright- Suicidal Thoughts- Josh A &
iamjakehill

Once upon a time, I still believed in myself
True love doesn't have a happy ending
'Cause when it's real, it doesn't ever end- Happy Never After: Gnash

My music is dark, sorry my life ain't prettyJust me and my thougths and they always stick with me
If my head's down it's 'cuz i'm overthinking- IDGAF: sik world

I'm unwell, thanks for asking
Swallow hard, kills sadness with science
But the aftermath might make you sick
I worry I won't be the same
But I guess that that's the point- Medicate: Gabbie Hanna

People wanna talk when I'm not around to hear
I'm not worth the trouble it seems
I would say you're wrong, but I've been here before
There's nothing left inside- Monster: Gabbie Hanna

And my heart was pumping, chest was screaming,
Mind was running, air was freezing,
Punch my face, do it ’cause I like the pain- boy in the bubble: Alec Benjamin

I’m such a ******* waste of achievement
I should put this trigger to my brain and just squeeze it
It’s getting to the point where it’s sad as ****
I’ve given it my all but it’s not enough
Ask me one more ******* time how the **** I feel
Imma ******* lose my mind- anxiety: Bmike

"Baby, never cut!"
She even tried to overdose and take her life away.
You may just feel that blade you're holding is your only friend.- Bmike: baby dont cut

whats the point of trying hard?
hear me out.
i could try really hard pass all my classes and get a scholarship. i could go to college become an engineer or something. but i would still be unhappy.
so why wouldn't i make it easier on myself and do the bare minimum get a job as a cashier or something.
i would be unhappy either way.
so why not

Self harm starts as one small cut. One blade you found in your brothers drawer. You heard him say one time that it makes him feel better. You hurt and you don’t know why. You take the blade to your skin for the first time you press down and pull it across your skin. You are hooked. It bleeds and it fascinates you. You wipe the blood away with some toilet paper and put a bandaid on it. You hide the blade under the bucket in the cabinet and move on with your day. You can’t stop thinking about it. You go back later and do one, two, three more cuts. You create a routine. You go back day after day. Multiple times a day. You tell yourself you can stop anytime until you realize you can’t. You look down at your thighs one day to do a few more cuts. You realize there is no more space. You move to your stomach. Then to your calves. Then your wrist. You look at your body in the mirror one day and see it is covered with blood, scabs, and scars. You disgust yourself. You can’t stand to look at yourself. One day your mom sees a scar or a cut that pokes out the top of your sleeve. She tells you that you are destroying yourself. She tells your dad and he yells a you says that you are an attention seeker. You believe it You believe all the horrible things people say about you. You see more and more flaws that you can’t stand. Its too much. It is all too much. Its too much. You go to the hall closet. You find the bottle that says minipress. You grab it shut the door and walk into the bathroom. You open the bottle and pour it’s content out into your hand. There are about twenty four pills. You put them on the counter, lining them up one by one. You find yourself picking them up one by one and placing them in your mouth. You pick up the last one and swallow it. It hits you. You realize what you have done. You lay on the ground and wait to fall asleep. You wake up in a strange rubber bed covered in scratchy sheets. You open your eyes and look around there are three strangers and your mom in the room. You are in a hospital. You survived but you realize you didn't want to wake up.

last night while you were cutting you hit a small vein it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding. you have used eight band aids since last night. it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding. you wake up and put two more on because it immediately bleeds through the first one.it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding. you get to school and you only have two band-aids left it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding. you use the last two. it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding. what do you do?it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop bleeding it wont stop 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my friend is stuck in the hole
hes crying for help, screaming to get out
my friend is stuck in the hole
it's filled with demons and devils
my friend is stuck in the hole
its pure hell and is consuming him hole
my friend is stuck in the hole
he sticks his hand out reaching for my hand
my friend is stuck in the hole
he waits for my help, but i cannot help
'cause i am stuck in the hole

ive slept 2 and a half hours for the past three days
i feel high
i dont mind it
i dont fight it
i dont hate it
i love it
i need it
give me the sleeping pills
ill stay awake the night
give me my strange high
why do i love it
makes me feel invinsible
not happy
but
invinsible

people love the stupid f-ing pill
they dont love me
the pill runs my body and mind
im still the same dark, sad, depressed person
here in the back of my mind
but people love the stupid f-ing pill
the stupid f-ing pill's happiness
so i let the stupid f-ing pill takeover
little do they know
im planning my own kind of happiness

thanks for all the suporrt in my dms ive been tired im not ignoring you all im reading them i just dont have much enery to write much back so i love you all and thanks so much

i need help
i got some pills
take em twice each day
they're magic
they make me "happy"
they make me
not me
im not the pills
im not happy
i relapsed
this life is ****
but hey
this is what you want
right?

drip
drip
drip
from my wrist.
                           .
                            .

my wrists and thighs itch.
not just from the healing scars and scabs,
but from the urge to carve my skin.
my mind feels too full it has no place to go so it travels down
through my arms and legs.
i can feel it flowing through my blood knowing the only way is out.
so i slice my skin and watch the blood flow,
knowing ill feel ok.
at least for a minute.

people flowing through the halls,
thoughts flowing through my mind,
stolen metal flowing through my hands,
blades flowing across my wrists,
blood flowing down my arms,
to my fingertips,
to the drain.
til
there
is
none
left.

Does anyone know a suicide/depression textline?

im trying my hardest but i need help

i might post a ton of poems though they may be ****** (they all are kinda ****** tbh) im trying to keep my mind on writing things out to at least attempt to not sh or worse im not doing very well mentaly but im trying to work throgh it i have therapy later today so maybe that will help...

idk how much longer this can go on
im doing ok in school and thats what people care about but im not doing mentaly ok whatsoever
idk if its worth it anymore tbh

Sorry not a poem but i dont feel like writing today sorry. just not feeling great

**** kahoot
**** dodgeball
**** basketball
**** baseball
**** football
**** soccer
**** trashketball
**** seated volleyball
**** it all
******* all
'cause competition ***** us all

do you know how many people die everyday
because you are too oblivious to know they are struggling
because of the painful words that come from your mouth
because you don't "believe" in mental illness
because of the trauma you don't care you cause
because of the voices in their heads telling repeating the lie you told
because of the weight you put on their shoulders, crushing them.
You don't know do you?
Or do you just no care?

im sick
its clear to me
its clear to see
so why am i at school
instead at home
resting away the pain
with my drug of choice
im sick you see
just not in the way you think

why
the
****
do i have urges to cut
every
square
inch
of my body in
deep ****** cuts.
why
the
****
do i have urges to
slit
my wrists
and write my goodbyes.