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I wasn’t there, but I still see that image of you in the front seat of your car. The lights were on and it was a hot and humid morning; the sun was just coming up.

I remember that hollow feeling in my chest and the knots in my stomach when she told me in the doorway of the office; it’s that same feeling that I get.

I made phone calls to all our old friends to make sure they heard it from a familiar voice than read it in cold, dead words from a screen.

Mike asked if I was kidding, but remarked I would never joke like this. I heard the faintness in his voice. I heard the aching on his breath.

I was dressed in black that Saturday morning sitting patiently behind that wall that separated me from my friends. The guitar sat idly on the ground; my hands trembled from the anxiousness.

I stood up in front of the most people I’d ever seen in one place. I looked out and saw so many familiar faces that I hadn’t seen in years. And I lamented to myself that it had been so long, and it’s been even longer still.

My shaking hands strummed out a simple song my voice croaked with regret; but I sand that song for you, my friend, and I’ve played it only

Once.

Since.
Lydia Jun 20
Sometimes I think of how hard the floor must be to stand so many footsteps
I met tourists who forgot that we made homes here
They kept stomping, to claim space for themselves on our floor

We slid on your blood to a place where your body isn’t remembered
Bright red, like you held your breath
In dance, we are taught to avoid anticipation
Make each motion independent
A surprise to the audience
Nobody stared at your chest till your shirt was cut open

I never get reception in the tunnel
How long till someone picked you up?
I can picture the damage to your eardrums
The deafening screech of metal pulled along by electricity
The burns with fade but parts of you are still laid out on the tracks

The tourists tried to tell me that it was “probably just drugs”
I tried to tell them that we are a community
That we cannot reduce your life to a probably, or even a maybe,
Cannot pretend to know your body on a stretcher
It sounded a lot like crying to me

I told a counselor I wanted to send you flowers
Know which hospital they took you to
She said something silly about a kind heart, but they weren’t for you
Just wanted to know that you lived,
Didn’t think they’d let me send flowers to a morgue

I’ve been to a morgue: they let me see a body
Can’t remember his face
Can’t remember your’s, either
But I see your blood and ripped shirt and the head restraint
I see your hand reaching up and hear my own prayers that you’ll fall asleep soon

My friend will not remember the story, did not observe your body as a phantom
Cannot see your body on the tracks and forgot I told him it was there

I understand
Sometimes I forget the order of operations, too
I step over the line and somebody reminds me that the train arrives first
The doors open and a voice I don’t recognize gives me permission
I apologize for taking up space
And then suddenly, I’m someone else

I’m hoping that you woke up in the hospital bed and were someone else
Unlike most of my writing about love stories, this was a true event, with real people. My heart goes out to that man. I’ve had so many nightmares about him. I hope that he fell asleep and woke up in less pain. When they let me up the escalator, I ran back to campus, pretended I hadn’t been crying, and picked up my friend. I don’t think I can forget what happened there. If I cannot send flowers to the man, I will be sending them to ER doctors and nurses at the emergency department of my local hospital. Much respect To all of them.
Lainey Apr 27
I heard some sad news
About a young teen
His Mum turned off his life support machine.
When I gave my condolences and she poured out her grief
You would think that this woman would feel some relief
But she turned to me bleakly and said
“ All my days, I will never forgive myself, lost to disgrace”.
I asked her why she felt compelled to such blame? Self recrimination, regret and shame?
She stated in earnest and her tone echoes still
“ The one machine I didn’t turn off has killed.”
I pledged from that day if I saw any signs
that my loved ones were victims of hurt by design
I’d tell them to switch off
Pull out the plug
Switch off the bully
Cut off the ****.
Your life is precious
don’t let haters thrive
Switch off for now and stay alive.
F Apr 22
There's shouting now,
Up there,
On the mountains.
There's shouting.

The wind beacons her,
Tugging at her flesh,
Bringing life back to the girls face,
The rocks urge her,
It's just one step,
One step and the pain stops,
Forever.
Her mind is in agreement,
But her soul is left divided,
Her thoughts push her to the edge,
Her memories keep her feet firm to the ground,
The voices command her,
Her eyes glazed over in conflict,
The tide crashing to the sand provides comfort,
Whispering away her sorrow's.
There is just one thing to do in return.
She let's the wind guide her,
The voices in her head,
And emotions drowned by liquor,
She let's the rock's take her life,
The sea take her body,
And the mountains take her spirit.

It's silent now,
Up there,
On the mountains.
It's silent.
This is my first poem to be published, I hope you like it x
Gerry Mora Dec 2018
Years before, he was just some happy kid
That used to smile, showing his precious white teeth
Sold his smile to the depression, precocious as it is
Now, here is where his depressive story begins

“I don’t wanna breathe…” That’s what he told me
The more he said it, the more I wished it were just a dream
Even though I knew it, I knew he was saying the truth
I just couldn’t believe him, that was being too crude

Numbness in a world full of black and white
No colors, no happiness in his sight
Don’t you see it? Don’t you see it in his dead eyes?
He figured out he could never feel alright

He was the one who wished to be erased
So he would’ve never been born to be a disgrace
For him dying maybe meant going to a better place
Guess what? He desired being victim of a coup de grace

(Feeling empty of happiness, at the same time full of hate
Even though he was alive, he thought of himself as dead weight
Even with a sunshine, all he saw and felt was rain
Everyone, and everything were being his life’s bane

Feeling empty of happiness, at the same time full of hate
Even though he was alive, he thought of himself as dead weight
Even with a sunshine, all he saw and felt was rain
Everyone, and everything were being his life’s bane)

As he wrote the letter, he started to cry
“Don’t you worry”, he said, “it’s only your life”
Ended his letter, he grabbed his knife
Cut himself in his arm, writing “Goodbye”

Prepared everything before night came by
He took the rope and hung it real tight
He stood on the chair and looked up at the moon
Thought about everything his mind had already consumed

As he did this he was going out of the path
Just blinded by this uncontrollable internal wrath
Crying he is now taking his last breath
But he knows shortly he will finally be dead

As he kicks the chair he knows, now there’s no escape
But in his mind he has escaped from this **** race
“Now I won’t worry about being a waste of space”
And as he thought that, he had a smile on his face

(Feeling empty of happiness, at the same time full of hate
Even though he was alive, he thought of himself as dead weight
Even with a sunshine, all he saw and felt was rain
Everyone, and everything were being his life’s bane

Feeling empty of happiness, at the same time full of hate
Even though he was alive, he thought of himself as dead weight
Even with a sunshine, all he saw and felt was rain
Everyone, and everything were being his life’s bane)

Some hours later we burst open the door
We saw something hanging, looking down to the floor
His hands, from his nails wouldn’t stop pouring blood
How can we forget about everything we just saw?

As I opened the letter I started reading it with care
“If you read this, most probably I’ll be already dead
Thank you for everything, thank you because you cared
Now there’s no reason to be sad… Farewell”
A suicidal teen writes a song to say goodbye, especially to you, his best friend.

IF YOU ARE HAVING SUICIDAL THOUGHTS PLEASE CALL (1-800-273-8255) OR SEEK ANY POSSIBLE HELP.
Take care of yourself
Take a walk outside
Reach out to loved ones
Don't forget to exercise
It's okay to have feelings
Don't keep them inside
Even all the bad ones
Like how you want to die
They're valid, acknowledge them
Even if it makes you cry
For the longest time you held them
Let them go, cut the ties
When you're struggling, it's okay
Say what's true and not lies
Some people won't understand
But there are some who can empathize
Life will hit you hard
It feels more difficult at times
But look forward to the ups
Because without the downs, you'd have a flat line
imperfectwords Oct 2018
14
never good enough,
she must continue
searching for that elusive perfection
a body so skinny,
no bmi can define it
she starves herself
because she can't see
clearly anymore
her mind is shattered,
her body is faded away
and now,
as she unscrews
the cap guarding the bleach,
she thinks about how
much she needs
anyone to help her
she wants to put an end
to the noise her mind created
so she chooses the
                              last
                                option
                                   left.
a girl I know is killing herself with anorexia. she talks about committing suicide but doesn't listen to me when I try to help. this poem is my last resort. she's only 14.
Laura Sep 2018
I can see my breath
And for some reason
That frightens me
For some reason
I'm very frightened
By everything today
I'm frightened
By my own thoughts
By my own existence
Just by being alone
And I don't know
If that's normal
I don't know
If people understand
What that's like
To be afraid
Of the mind
You live in
To be afraid
Of the life
You were born in
But it's scary
And I don't like it
I don't like
Seeing my breath
I don't like
Seeing my veins
I don't like
Feeling my pulse
As I live my scared life
Because I'm truly frightened
By everything in my mind
And I don't know how to stop it
I don't know how to change it
I don't know what to do
And that scares me
Kathryn Irene Sep 2018
Your scars may run deep
Like the water among rivers
Your pain etched deep
Like the deep crevices of stone
Your heart may be failing
But I'm here to revive it.

You said you cannot go on
Yet you've traveled a thousand miles more
You say you're all alone
I can hold your hand, side by side
You think you're nothing
Yet your living, standing, breathing, beautiful

You feel trapped within your mind
Like a dove in a cage
Yearning to be free
From the ribcage confining you
You want to go to the extreme
But that is not the answer

Your life is so confusing
But all trails lead to the highway
Your mind is lost to darker thoughts
Yet there is an edge to the forest
Your mind tells you no
But what does your heart truly believe?

You feel like your floating through life, endlessly
Yet your feet stand on the ground firmly
You think you hear the drums of death
Yet I can only hear the sound of beauty
You think I cannot help you
I don't, I want to support you

I do not know how your life is or the issues it concerns
The twisted roads and dead ends your life has come to
How many times your heart has been staked or your body in pain
How many friends have abandoned you on a single plea for help
I can understand your mistrust, but believe
Believe in a tomorrow, a tomorrow with me

Do not intend to relive yesterday,
What has been said is done
Actions are like leaves drifting away
There is a tomorrow your eyes have not seen
Though it may be rough how else can it be?
If not for you then do it for me

How many people can your mind keep count
Or the many places exquisite with beauty?
How many lovers can your heart keep count
Until you find the one safe and happily?
How many adventures can you go through
Until you find a home content with life?

If not for you then do it for me
What friends love you will surely be sad
What family will weep, cry at your loss
How will their lives be changed
Without your light by their side?
You're not alone, little dove.

This is not the answer so
Please step away
Put the hurt down and walk away
Run into my arms and feel safe
I won't tell a soul if you
Promise to be safe

You only live once
So why throw it away?
For something you don't know
If it'll be better
So please stop drinking
And be sober with me

Put the gun down and
Surrender to me
If not for you then do it for me
Relive all the good memories
And come with me
Don't let go of what you know

Please, don't go..
And never know of what you don't
View more poems on my instagram
www.instagram.com/SkullsNB0nes
Laura Jul 2018
It's a delicate thing
To talk about suicide
Apparently you can't talk about it
Without wanting to do it
You can't reminisce upon the feelings
Without falling down the hole

Even if you're feeling
Ten feet tall
Fully equipped
Metal fists
At the ready
You still can't talk about it

Other people don't want to hear about it
They all assume
That you'll do it
Even if you don't want to
Even if your metal fists
Are feeling secure
No shake in sight
It'll make other people
Uncomfortable
Insecure
Scared
Even when you're not
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