The constant feeling of dread,
I look around me, and see nothing but tears shed.
Everyone tells me, people's tears will ricochet!
But what if, I just can't bring myself to stay?
The voices in my head do nothing but nag,
and for a while those voices helped me drag
my stay on Earth, along with the suffer.
My therapist says, "It's life making you tougher!"
I'm done, I finally say. Done with it.
It's midnight, my life is draining, bit by bit,
I can see myself getting hurt,
but I don't feel a thing under the dirt of my shirt.
My breathing begins to slow,
I wait until I'm able to go,
to go to the other side,
thinking of the future I could've had,
maybe as a bride?
I begin to think, "Maybe it could have gotten better?"
With my last ounce of strength, I eye the letters,
the letters that they'll find tomorrow morning,
Their dreadful morning of mourning,
That morning would be my first,
I was the only one who knew my worst,
Maybe I shouldn't have died just yet,
I should've let them see my silhouette,
My silhouette, at least one last time,
My mother, wondering why I said nothing,
My father, angry at himself, eyes puffing,
My brother, confused, he'd thought I was ok,
Even my cousin, who felt nothing but betray,
she thought we'd always stay.
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 9:08 PM UTC
The constant feeling of dread,
I look around me, and see nothing but tears shed.
Everyone tells me, people's tears will ricochet!
But what if, I just can't bring myself to stay?
The voices in my head do nothing but nag,
and for a while those voices helped me drag
my stay on Earth, along with the suffer.
My therapist says, "It's life making you tougher!"
I'm done, I finally say. Done with it.
It's midnight, my life is draining, bit by bit,
I can see myself getting hurt,
but I don't feel a thing under the dirt of my shirt.
My breathing begins to slow,
I wait until I'm able to go,
to go to the other side,
thinking of the future I could've had,
maybe as a bride?
I begin to think, "Maybe it could have gotten better?"
With my last ounce of strength, I eye the letters,
the letters that they'll find tomorrow morning,
Their dreadful morning of mourning,
That morning would be my first,
I was the only one who knew my worst,
Maybe I shouldn't have died just yet,
I should've let them see my silhouette,
My silhouette, at least one last time,
My mother, wondering why I said nothing,
My father, angry at himself, eyes puffing,
My brother, confused, he'd thought I was ok,
Even my cousin, who felt nothing but betray,
she thought we'd always stay.
This poem was actually written back in August '25, which was when I started struggling again with mental health and such. This poem just came to me like 7 seconds! I enjoyed making this one and I really enjoy writing!! :D
