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May 2019
Pain used to inspire me to write.
Words would flow easily through my fingers,
substituting my tears.
I used to draw my pain. I painted my canvas with feelings,
and emotions, that words could not express.
If things started to feel hopeless, music was my saviour.
I would write lyrics, amplifying the words with sad tunes,
spilling my deepest, darkest thoughts.
But now, the pain is so strong, it is all I can think of.
My thighs are covered in scars,
from when the pain got so bad, that I needed to bleed it out.
Now, I realize, that I have drained myself.
ThereΒ΄s no tears, no words, no paint, no blood
left,
to spill.
I hope that whoever can relate to this, keeps on going. DonΒ΄t give up, even if it feels hopeless. ThereΒ΄s always a way out. Suicide does not have to be one of them.
Written by
Outsider  17/F/Norway
(17/F/Norway)   
1.9k
       hannah, Elliot, Ozzie, Empire and Fawn
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