Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2013
The first night you told me
all about your last
failed suicide attempt;
we cried,
we kissed,
I tried to help
but you never got better.
But for someone fighting
their own demons,
you had no trouble
telling that boy
that no one would miss him
if he were gone.
anessa breanne
Written by
anessa breanne
Please log in to view and add comments on poems