Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 19
Yes,  finally,  I have broken;
There's nothing I can do.

I've nothing left to live for;
Nor to breathe the air
Like you.

You know how people
Always say,
"Well hey, it could be worse?"

Well hi, my name is "Worse,"
I'll introduce myself
To you.

I gave up all my cigarettes,
I've poured out all the *****;

But things that should get "better,"
I can't see them like you do.

I wrote a story from my mind,
On a gift that I was given,
Nine chapters pulled from
My behind;

That's humor,  if you get it.

My cat knocked down a
Half- full can,
Upon my livelihood;

And now I'm left with nothing,
Yes, I've wondered if I "should.."

I've tried so many times,
I gave up trying long ago;
Swallowed seventy- two Xanax
And took a jump down the bayou.

But for every time I've tried,
Somehow, I still wake up alive,
But tonight for the first time in years,
I truly wished I'd die.

Oh, when you live for nothing,
And all you've left behind,
Are spoken words and stories
That can warp and open minds;

When you live without money;
Left society behind,
You survive on only kindness,
Oh, yeah, any kind you find.

I don't know 'bout tomorrow;
Today has been enough.
But even through my sorrow,
I've felt my heart grow tough.

Now, I must sleep without
My dreams; they're locked behind
A door;

A prison made of plastic,
Metal,  and lost
Forevermore.

So now I'm sitting here again,
And poetry I write;
I'm glad nobody's here to see me;
God, I'm such a sight!

My face is boils and scars,
And they continue down my arms;
They wind their way into my mind;
They're even on my heart.

For all I've given up to live
A life I could call mine,
I'm left tonight with nothing,
No; a nothing that is mine.

I'll try my best to get some rest;
And face the day anew,

But finally,  I have broken;
Some part of me is "through..."
This is how I feel tonight. I literally wrote 9 chapters of a novel on an old laptop that was gifted to me by a friend of the family, and my cat knocks a ****** can of soda all over it; I'm broke, I CAN'T work,  my mental illness won't LET me; IT'S NOT A CHOICE,
and I've never felt more depressed and suicidal in many years, than this moment, right now. So I'm using the only thing I have to post on,  my phone,  and I've written this. Goodnight world. *******,  God. And I hope tomorrow gets better...
Kris Fireheart
Written by
Kris Fireheart  33/M/Houston, Texas
(33/M/Houston, Texas)   
323
   Maybelater2
Please log in to view and add comments on poems