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Almost Killed Me (Suicidal)

A table with books of poetry for sale.

Almost killed me the pain inside.

When left so cold and afraid,

I knew if I took those pills all would go away.

But I was scared.

I put the knife to my arms and legs.

And tried with all my might with that blade,

I knew there was no return to the way I've behaved.

But I was lost.

At 11 a friends dad pushed me into a door.

Spat and yelled in all the cursed words he knew,

I was in my own detention hall in his house as his voice blew.

But I was young.

I hid in my room after it happened and I cried.

Knowing this was my answer to being 12 that day,

Using the razor blades to cut out my pain inside to make it go away.

But I was suicidal.

I turned to pills the next day and drank them back.

My face turned a colour of black and white,

I wanted to just leave my body of dark in the midst of the night.

But I was stupid.

I requested help from my parents and they denied it all.

I couldn't face my friend that day not then not ever,

We split our friendship up that year and took years to get together.

But I was afraid.

I crept into the wine cellar and tried to do it again.

The blood pouring from my arms felt ever so good to me,

I felt all the pain from within his anger released my blood free.

But I was alone.

At 16, I did the same once again after my boyfriend committed suicide.

I couldn't face that thought of death in my mind,

But as I drew another cut I released the anger of a past I did find.

But I was emotional.

I took those bottle of pills and I cut til I felt it some more.

The past and present in my life once again,

I found myself with the blood that had once flushed from my veins.

But I was helpless.

The alcohol I drank seemed to bring me to that place.

The point of my no return of life and my death bed it longed await,

I was humbled by the sight of doctors saying it may have been too late.

But I was drained.

Something happened that night as the cold was taking me on my back.

The blood seeped through my body and my brain began to fade again,

The pal I had whose father did this to me came back to be my friend.

But now I'm alive.

  • Author: Marianne Trox
  • Age Rating:
  • Category: Uncategorized
  • Views: 37
  • Date Published: