Drop everything, the pain is calling.

Calling from the holes in this battered heart.

Calling from the endless void, placed in this soul.

The emptiness running through these veins, consumed by hate.

The blade feeling so cold against the heated, anger pulsing inside.

The bottle so smooth between shaking hands, temptation running wild.

The gun held so stiffly to the chest, thoughts wrapped around sweet bliss.

Calling from the depths of silenced, darkness.

Calling to the whispered promises of happiness.

Drop everything, the pain is calling.

Guide that inspired this poem: 



Don't listen to your pain. But this poem is really beautiful.

Need to talk?

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