Thoughts coming and going from my mind.
Sweeping in and out leaving more behind
each time.
The thoughts have a hold on me.
Getting up and getting ready is only
phase one.
Brush my hair and bare a day with
the one who kills me.
Shh.
This isn't what I wanted
I wanted to be free.
To smile and
never have a worry
but I'm stuck with this disease
The thoughts become more frequent and
I begin to believe them a little more.
Who wants to live?
To get hurt?
When it all can be over.
As easy as 1,2,3.
I'll walk down the long narrow stairs
taking the time to look at me in the mirror
Bags under my eyes,
dull specks of brown.
Lips turned into a frown.
Never good enough.
Always second best never up top.
Shh.
This isn't what I wanted
I wanted to be free.
To smile and
never have a worry
but I'm stuck with this disease
My hand twitches in pleasure when the
thoughts come now.
Leaving a smirk play on
my tortured face.
Silence among the best
leaves room for mess.
I take a step down from the mirror and begin
the walk to the nearest kill.
I grab some random bottles
filled to the top.
So small
some oval.
I didn't care, It didn't matter.
Shh.
This isn't what I wanted
I wanted to be free.
To smile and
never have a worry
but I'm stuck with this disease
The thoughts have become acts
and I've become lost in a play.
Not knowing who I am
or who I wanna be,
Take the bottles that can make me feel upstairs
turn them over on my bed.
Grab a bowl fill it too the top.
Colors of the rainbow look
so vivid.
I take a hand full and swallow them hole.
anorther one or two
and the black comes.
I'm over whelmed. Not knowing
where I was.
Did I succeed?
Am I free?
Shh.
This isn't what I wanted
I wanted to be free.
To smile and
never have a worry
but I'm stuck with this disease
It's over now,
I can't be hurt.
Or so I would think.
But like always I'll wake up,
Still never to be free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem