Walking down the street
I see things I never thought I'd see
The sun shining
The birds chirping in the trees
Three years ago today
I felt alone and in the way
I saw no other option
I couldn't stand another day
Now, sun shining down
Illuminating arms attacked and drowned
I realize that my life isn't for naught
Even if too often I still don a frown
Those nights I laid
Alone and afraid
Scared not of death, but of life and what I may do
Thinking of the things to myself I had said
So do not fear
Do not think of ending it here
You're a book, and this is simply the thickening plot
There's so much more still left to hear
Do not look to me though
In your time of fear and woe
I'm no example to be modeled after and loved
I'm simply a story, not a savior aglow
I know you know what I'm talking about
Why else would you read this awful stout
You know all too well of the poisonous thoughts
And too well you know the nightly bout
Anonymous I write to you
Why now I'm only in my bed, probably like you
It's at night before I sleep, when these things plague my mind
But I'm sure I don't have to explain that to you
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:27 AM UTC
Walking down the street
I see things I never thought I'd see
The sun shining
The birds chirping in the trees
Three years ago today
I felt alone and in the way
I saw no other option
I couldn't stand another day
Now, sun shining down
Illuminating arms attacked and drowned
I realize that my life isn't for naught
Even if too often I still don a frown
Those nights I laid
Alone and afraid
Scared not of death, but of life and what I may do
Thinking of the things to myself I had said
So do not fear
Do not think of ending it here
You're a book, and this is simply the thickening plot
There's so much more still left to hear
Do not look to me though
In your time of fear and woe
I'm no example to be modeled after and loved
I'm simply a story, not a savior aglow
I know you know what I'm talking about
Why else would you read this awful stout
You know all too well of the poisonous thoughts
And too well you know the nightly bout
Anonymous I write to you
Why now I'm only in my bed, probably like you
It's at night before I sleep, when these things plague my mind
But I'm sure I don't have to explain that to you
This poem is about getting through stages of self harm and suicidal thoughts and/or actions.
