Darkest Hour

No matter what, she was always sad.

Lost and confused, in her world that was never so glad.

With no sense of confidence, no hope in her heart,

her darkest hour was beginning to spark.

People pushed and shoved,

making her fall down,

but not helping her get back up.

The bruises still remain,

but on her wrist lie crimson stains. 

She never felt like she belonged,

so she wanted to kill herself and have no one mourn.

Countless days, sleepless nights,

the darkest hour was rising,

and it was getting ready to strike.

The girl was crying once again, thinking of the past.

However, tonight she declared that this will be her last. 

Remembering the constant beatings, 

remembering the sleepless nights,

remembering the blood in her sink,

the girl was more than just an outcast.

The girl you see suffering, do you know what she has faced?

The girl you see alone, do you know why she hides?

The girl you see crying, why don't you go stand by her side?

The girl you see scared, why do you look at her and leave with no trace?

You're a bit too late, my friend.

Her darkest hour has arrived, and she has already given in.


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741