Pain used to inspire me to write.
Words would flow easily through my fingers,
substituting my tears.
I used to draw my pain. I painted my canvas with feelings,
and emotions, that words could not express.
If things started to feel hopeless, music was my saviour.
I would write lyrics, amplifying the words with sad tunes,
spilling my deepest, darkest thoughts.
But now, the pain is so strong, it is all I can think of.
My thighs are covered in scars,
from when the pain got so bad, that I needed to bleed it out.
Now, I realize, that I have drained myself.
There´s no tears, no words, no paint, no blood
left,
to spill.
I hope that whoever can relate to this, keeps on going. Don´t give up, even if it feels hopeless. There´s always a way out. Suicide does not have to be one of them.
