unadored Mar 6
an ember on a pile of burnt coals
can’t help but feel engulfed by darkness

if only it could adopt the perspective
of the fingers, frozen, nearby -
resting on the bones of a ribcage
of an icy body; akin to its own
that it would see its reality with clarity

for those people:
that ember is
hope in the face of an empty matchbox;  
it will keep them warm.
that ember is
a promise of light.

just as it did before
it will burn bright once more
and not only will it shine
but it will burn through the darkness
for all those other broken coals
for poppy
Jade Welch Mar 4
And I was lost.
It was the first time words had not saved me.
Sat in the hospital bed.
All the doctor could do was leave me be.

The very thing I lived for.
Verse and rhyme.
I could not use in the Majors ward.

But I though of no words but 'pain'.
"When you see the sun I feel the rain".
Mister J Feb 9
I pulled it..

I pulled the trigger
Of the gun pointed at my head
The bullet racing each millisecond
To blow my brain to smithereens
With my whole life flashing before
My bloodshot, insane eyes
Reliving each moment of this
Fucked up excuse of a life

There it was
That stinging depression
That started small
And grew in my weary heart
Slowly eating me each day
Growing darker and more sinister
As each problem came
Tearing my sanity away

Leading me to this very moment
Where I choose to run away
And leave this mediocre life
To rot and decay on its own
To be finally in peace
So that all that loneliness
Won't ever touch my heart
And will be free from my soul

And yet..

I began to remember the love
My family and friends gave me
How they stayed by my side
Never abandoning me
As I was loosing hope
They held on to me
Tried to keep me sane
Supporting me through it all

How cowardly of me
To suddenly let them go
To throw away this one and only
Life given and lived by me
But I guess its for the best
I guess its time to rest
I'll never see them again
They'll just forget me anyway

..Will they?

The happy moments came flashing by
The many times I genuinely smiled
Truly laughed and felt at ease
Those moments sweet to cherish
Was I this happy before?
Before everything else came crumbling?
Before I succumbed to the voices in my head?
Before I ended up at this very moment?

I don't want this..

Last moments of feeling the regret
I don't want to end this life
I just wanted to regain the happiness
The happiness taken and removed
By this consuming condition
This unforgiving depression
That ills my every cell
And has now completely taken all of me

I could've just lived my life
But no, I took it on my own
In any moment now I'll leave this world
Never to be seen again
No more new opportunities
To better my life and move on
To fight this psychological battle
That has taken hold of my entirety

And then it hit me..


The pain stings..

My head feels light
My consciousness fleeting
As I fall to the ground
I could see the massive bleeding
I can't hear a thing
The silence is deafening
My vision went black
And then everything just went


..I shouldn't have pulled it
Serious piece here
Its kind of a suicidal piece
For those battling depression
Don't loose hope
Someone will listen
You just have to ask. Okay?

Thanks for reading.
jas Feb 8
help me
I must be dreaming
this is not the life I asked for
im not
myself anymore

help me
I cant seem to escape
these nightmares follow me home
and in my sleep

help me
im begging
idk what to do anymore...

so im asking
help me
as I take ... my last breath
maybe you'll reach this in time of my death

I asked for help
but you weren't quick
im at the edge of my steps

I found a way to escape
so thanks
for helping me

- goodbye
suicide is real. reach out to those you care and even those you may never contact with on a daily. life is a struggle and its easier if you have someone to listen. don't disregard the signs. ask for help or be the help.
"I can see my door, my bed, my window, my chair, and my table.

"I can feel my spine against the wall, my feet against the floor, my jaw tightly shut, and my fingernails buried in my arms.

"I can hear the wind coming in from the open window, my heartbeat rapidly thumping, and that familiar voice in my head, shouting once again.

"I can smell the dampness of the ground outside as the breeze carries it to my room, and the sickly sweet odor from the soap used on my hands.

"I can taste my blood spilling from the bite in my lip; my last harsh reminder that
When you call a suicide prevention hotline, they will often ask you to describe to them 5 things you can see, 4 things you can feel, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste to help ease anxiety. I hope this poem helps someone struggling to look forward, because believe me, it does get better.
Lance Estacio Dec 2017
Nothing's in accord
So why not a sword
No one will hear
What then shall I fear
Nobody seems to care
So why can't I dare
There's not even an eye
Finally, a chance to fly
I'll put my blade upon my vein
This will be my final pain
A step or two from a building's ledge
At last I'll see my life on edge
Hanging from the gallows I will swing
After this I can spread wide my wings
Now my blood rushes over me
It's getting dark I can barely see
Little by little I'm out of air
What have I done please help me spare
The light I thought that I will see
Is actually darkness, it's consuming me
To call for help I want to shout
Rescue me, please take me out
I was deceived by my ownself's death
Plotting it was my biggest regret
Whom shall I blame, it is my fault
It is my sin that of hope I was short
It is my sin, It is my fault
It is my fault
It is my fault
Is it really my fault?
No one heard me when I was afraid
Is it still my sin that no one cared?
Nobody helped when I was frail and weak
Nobody knew that my mind and soul was sick
Is it my fault that I felt unloved?
That no one listened to my deepest sobs
These words are what I'm leaving here
Make this live, please make them hear
I may be forgotten, I may be missed
But one last request, let me now rest in peace
to ate Halen, no, it isn't your fault
Emily Rosario Nov 2017
I’ve been watching videos
On a certain scenario
The effects it has on others
What it would do to my mother
I overthink everything
I feel like no ones is listening
Pushing my feelings aside
Slowly dying inside
I’m happy to be me
Yet I keep thinking of how it would be
If I commit suicide
Thinking of how I’m not qualified
Reasons why I should stop crying
Motivation to keep on trying
I am loved by many people
To them I am like a flower’s sepal
There for support
Yet they respond to me with retort
I’m am not to be taken serious
Like as if my feelings are oblivious
The joy I show to others is counterfeit
I think of suicide more than I’d like to admit
I’ve never committed self harm
So don’t ring the alarm
I keep trying to restrain
I don’t want to cause my loved ones pain
I’m trying to be selfless
But right now I just feel helpless
Struggling with thoughts of suicide? Reach out. They are available 24/7 at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).
Ella Gwen Mar 2017
There was a full stop
hedged on a semi-colon,
but you just flew straight through both.

A train wreck thunderstorm, lightning bolt
smiles that were just a touch too bright.

One thing fell and then another, repeated,
endless cycles of your closed eyes, averted face,
until the pebbles that fell graduated to stones,
to boulders, and you turned and ran towards them.

Each step was a decision, each step another false idea,
another pathetic tragedy, trapped in viscous thought
as silence became a screaming, scorching pain after
you chose to become the enemy.

I was here, I was breathing, I was one step away
from you. But you did not reach for me, you did
not speak. You did not call. I left my phone on for you but
you did not call.

You stole secret to the edge and ripped yourself asunder.
You wrapped your fingers around our throats.
You decided to disappear your problems, to rest in pieces.
You resolved we should be the ones left to suffer,
standing perpetually in your shadow.

I still suffer. I am still here. I am still breathing, but it
is no thanks to you. Your mother cannot look at me anymore.
She says I remind her too much. She doesn't breathe,
she doesn't talk, she doesn't call.

She is the remnant you left behind, cast off like an old coat,
worn and weary and wasted.

Do you remember me? Do either of you remember me?
I cannot do it anymore.

Your legacy is made of salt and water
and all I want to do is forget.

Brother. Mother. Sister;
the family tree is dead.
There is always someone you can talk to and always someone who will be devastated by the loss of you. Do not break their hearts. Ask for help.
Call 116 123 (free UK helpline for Samaritans), talk to a doctor, talk to your friends, talk to your family, talk to a nice stranger, talk to someone like me who will be broken and angry when you're gone. Please.
Nathan Box Jan 2017
For my 2016 writing project, I’ve decided to write a single line of poetry every day for an entire year. Below, is November’s poem. Enjoy!

Thirty-three years old.
A brother lost.
A father fighting on.
A mother standing tall.

I feel brave.
Only death can defeat me.
It nearly did.

Still, I stand.
We all do.

We are like trees in a windstorm.

Life discounts me.
That is its mistake.

We've been to the brink.
We've stared over the cliff.
Edges are nothing to be feared.

Life defined in two parts.
My own personal B.C. and A.D.
Before destroys me.
The next is mine.

With bated breath.
I turn the page.
I begin writing a new chapter.

Much will be said of this time.
It is my beacon of hope.

These hours are mine.

Numbers on a wall,
Each with a purpose.

Let's use this story.
Let's save a soul.
November 3rd can change things.
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