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Contempthy Aug 2018
Shame on me,
For not trying harder to be a miscarriaged baby,
Shame on me through being a surviver of a deadly tumor,
I am a tumor of the world,
Shame on me for taking up space,
Shame on me from not being able to prevent her sucicide,
Shame is all I feel,
I am shame itself;
And that voice inside my head I can’t figure out if it’s actually mine,
Or if I died off long ago,
And now I’m just something’s vessel.
I’m so scared of negative judgement from other people. But I am exposing pieces of me and maybe through that I can be pieced back together. I hope you find relatablity or  at least understanding.
Hunter  Sep 2019
Grace
Hunter Sep 2019
First you take a drink,
Then the drink takes you.
You start asking,
Could have,
Might have,
Or should have.

I’m starting to realize that anger,
Tears,
And sadness are for those who have given up.
Have I given up..?
Is drunkenness a temporary sucicide?

My anxiety is feeling like a rocking chair,
It gives me something to do,
But it doesn’t get me far.
It’s not stress that kills me,
It’s how I react to it.

Baby open your door,
Cause I’ve been waiting for my blessing.
Give me all the keys,
And I’ll lock away the darkness.
If your grace is an ocean,
Then please let me drown.

In your arms,
I find refuge.
Did you say you love me?
Or do my ears deceive me.
Cause I’ll say the same words,
But I’ll shout them clearly.

I’m so glad you came,
You drew the curtain on the night.
When you call my name,
I can’t help but smile.
I started my life drinking a lot thinking I had control of it leading to troubling moments in my life. Soon my emotions were overcome with anger from exes and the way people treated me, my nights of being drunk felt like "clarity" like I was flying awat from my problems. My anxiety started to get worse and make me feel hopless, and the way I treated it was stupid on my part. Thank god I was able to meet my lover who is always giving me grace on my mistakes, she calls out what I do wrong so I can fix It. I'm so happy she walked into my life, she's able to rock me to sleep and make me forget about all my worries. I love you J.J.L
Kole J McNeil Oct 2022
There is no gn to my head
There are no p
lls in my hand
But a slow sucicide is my poisin
Small smiles
Tight laughs
Small cuts
"Partying"
Slow sucicide is how I die
Playing in snow
Eating air
Sleeping days
Caffine nights
Slow suicide is my choice
Silver pens
Red paint
Smoky lungs
Whisky breath
Slow suicide is a petty death
Braclet wrists
Long sleeves
Empty ribs
Cold hands
Slow Suicide
Slow Suicide is my choice of death.

— The End —