suicideawarenessandprevention
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"Bloody... Hell..."
I whisper and whimper.
My white bath tub-
Slaughtered by my blood.
Tears freeze at the corner of my eyes,
And three jagged lines,
Slowly pouring my life away.
Dark and cold,
A tale so old,
Coming home,
Waiting to unfold.
He sits on his bed,
Painting his wrists red,
Urging the thoughts,
To just leave his head.
Kids are dying
Younger and younger
By their own hand
They're being pushed to the edge
And they can't return
They feel alone
And helpless
And have no where to go
How many kids have to die
Suicide.
I may or may not be the only one
But it has crossed my mind.
Honest truth.
Then I think
Taking my life will do so little of what I think.
It will make things worse.
