His eyes were red

His eyes were red from crying

   He didn't go to school

A bottle in his shaking hand

   pills spilled across the floor

He thought his life was pointless;

   He couldn't take it anymore

 

His parents said they loved him

His chest heaved with the thought

Why could he never feel just good enough?

 

The pills were smooth as they were forced down his throat

He swayed a little as his head began to float

 

He sat down on the floor, saw the bathroom tile for the last time

He thought once he was gone, nobody would mind

 

His head drifted through the clouds-

He was flying

 

Then he fell.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community

Comments

Need to talk?

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