Poetry Project #4

We cut ourselves to make it fake

To hide the pain that we can’t take.

We drop the blade, colored red,

And bang the wall against our head.

We see the floor and then the sky ,

And wish to Hell that we could die.

Everything’s white around the edges,

Then it fades to little wedges.

While we dream, curled up on the floor

With a hand stretched for the door,

We see our past and what it’s like,

Then wish we’d fall atop a spike.

When we wake with eyes so sore

We then decide we can’t take anymore.

We seek our help from friends, so rare,

Only to see there’s no one there.

~1999 (age 15/16)


I don’t like that first line, it doesn’t make very much sense, but for some reason can’t bring myself to change it.

I’ve never attempted suicide on a legitimate scale.  I’ve contemplated suicide, spent hours listing reasons why it was and wasn’t the best choice for me and always decided in the end that my mother was not strong enough to survive the loss of a child.   I spent my entire teenage years learning how to live with a deep, empty pit inside of me.  I’ve fought the urge to jump into that hole multiple times.  One of my escapes was writing poetry.  This particular poem was reported by a poetry forum to my high school guidance counsellor.  It was embarrassing and I never shared anything after that.





7 thoughts on “Suicide

  1. That pit seems so tempting. You are really strong to be able to fight it. And that poetry is beautiful. Yes the first line makes no sense but the rest is brutally honest and rings just true. Good job 😉


      1. Omg no its not that bad its attention grabbing. It’s okay you’ll keep coming back to it and one day it’ll just click. Trust me xD Don’t worry too much bout it the poem is really good! Haha patience is what all of us lack xP

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I stopped writing shortly after I graduated high school. I recently started this poetry project where I’m posting all of my old poems from that time with possible improvements if I’m up to it. I seem to be more inclined to post them as they are since I felt these poems best expressed how I felt when I first decided to hide them in my binder. It’s actually been a weird experience and I’ve only just started.
        I’m hoping to learn from my previous writings and have something new to return to writing with.


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