There I was, in the very depths of despair. In a place so very dark. And I no longer cared. I had closed my eyes, As I said my final prayers. I had made up my mind, I would no longer be there, I'd be gone, As soon as I finished my prayer. But when I opened my eyes, There was an angel standing there. She told me how much, The Lord loved me. And that he'd never, Not once, Forgotten about me
I know not her name. But the Lord sent her to me when i was ready to give up and forfeit my life while in the depths of depression. Thank you.
One year since your passing, I didn't know I still wasn't ready to say goodbye.
Unlike the other lives lost in years past, Yours cut me deeper than the rest.
Like watching an older version of myself, Carry out a wish I could never fully attempt, It left me mortified, scared I may follow in your footsteps.
Months later, dreams came and went. I'd often wake up, wondering why I'd envision myself Jumping off the Eads Bridge.
I never thought I'd be having these thoughts again.
They say history repeats itself. But I promise you: I won't repeat the same mistakes. I won't become a part of the past.
My brother took his life on Sept. 8, 2019, two days before World Suicide Prevention Day. The title "Suicide September" is a cryptic reminder of the month my brother took his life and the year that followed the moment I realized I'm still not okay.
My blood I willingly spill onto the page It takes the form of words to engage A written expression of my life's insanity It exposes my darkest truths for all to see Unwilling to admit it's existence to myself Darkest of thoughts I place upon a shelf Behind my smile I've concealed this reality I fear the possibility of my broken mentality Would others not think this to be true If asked for help what would they do It goes unnoticed each time I reach out That someone cares I begin to doubt Hope I once held slowly fades away Deeper into this depression I fall each day Why does no one care enough to see The emptiness I've hidden is killing me Someone to talk with I have not found Paper now keeps me mentally sound With pen in hand I have learned to speak In poetry I have a voice that's unique
Its about dealing with my depression and finding, through poetry, a positive outlet for my suicidal thoughts.
I want to heal you But I cannot feel your pain Please open the door Ive seen your eyes rain You feel so hopeless Yet a smile you feign Crying cant help you Let me be your drain Call out for help Before you walk down the wrong lane I refuse to watch you End your pain
CALL FOR HELP: 1-800-273-8255 Trusted and loved ones are always also an options Join the fight to prevent suicide, and tag your poem with #StayWithUs They need us, so be there for them.