This is a very angsty poem I wrote when a mental health worker thought i was schizophrenic

They say they’re going to help
But it’s lies.
If they were going to help then they wouldn’t talk to my parents.
They think they can understand,
That’s lies too,
No one understands.
They cannot stop the pain,
They cannot truly understand,
Yet they still insist on trying.
They haven’t stopped the tears,
They haven’t stopped the blood flow,
They just think they have.
They will not stop the cutting
Or the noose making.
They cannot stop me killing myself.
They think Pandora’s imaginary,
They don’t say as much but I can tell.
I grab for a rope, a scarf,
Something, anything to end it all.
I’m not going to say goodbye to anyone,
That will only stop me going through with it.
I tie a knot in the scarf,
A knot to make it a noose,
I tie it to my bed and prepare to do the twist.
At the precise moment I’m going to jump I stop and think,
I’m not going to kill myself,
Instead what I do is torture.
I pick up the blade and start slashing at my wrists,
It hurts but that won’t stop me.
Soon I have crimson rivers flowing down my arms,
Turning to waterfalls and dripping on the floor.
None of this is my fault, it’s her,
It’s always her but no one sees that.
I sit and shout at the bitch but all she does is sit and plan,
Plan what she’s going to make me do next.
What’s the point in living if I’m not in control?
I want to end it but she won’t let me,
The evil bitch keeps me alive, tortures me.
The first set of cuts weren’t enough for her,
The shouting made her angry.
So again she makes me pick up the blade,
Again she makes me cut.
She’s going to get me locked up,
What’s the point of living knowing that’s going to happen?
That means that none of my hopes and ambitions can be fulfilled.
I’m not really living, am I?

Submitted: March 24, 2009

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Michael Barney

wow, i am thoroughly creeped out.. i mean damn, is this for real or what? i tried killing myself once but only found God in the end..its weird how that shit works right..well, it was an entertaining read and im hoping you will be around so i will be able to read far "her" who is "her" i thought that was a good twist..

Mon, March 30th, 2009 7:32am


This is about something that really happened to me and still does. She is the voice i hear, the one who is supposedly not real. the voice who tells me that i'm stupid and worthless and that no one cares. I'm glad you liked the poem though and i aim to scare and creep out lol.

Mon, March 30th, 2009 3:15am


A fragmented mind is almost remarkable though...I mean, if you have the Capacity to be broken...imagine what else you have the capacity for.

I know, it's a strange thought. I think everyone hears those voices in thier heads at some point though...when we fail.

This is interesting.

Fri, May 29th, 2009 1:22am


Thanks and it's not really a strange thought

Fri, May 29th, 2009 7:10am

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