Listen to the Voices

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem is written to show the reader what's going on when I feel suicidal. And I hate, with a passion, how my family thinks my cutting is so bad. How is it bad if I allow myself to do that instead of suicide?

Submitted: March 10, 2011

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Submitted: March 10, 2011



Listen to the voices, far from kind

A terrifying dream, a game with my mind.

As I try to forget, the words that were said

Telling me its time, time to be dead.

Then I think twice, what good am I?

If nobody cares, even when I cry.

Should I take the pills, ending it all?

An excruciating pain, with no one to call.

The pills seem cold, against my hand

Smiling at the thought, of the death I've planned.

Wishing for someone, to come knock them away

Cradling me, telling me it's okay.

Then I snap out of the game, thanks to my mind

I've gotten an idea, a pain one of a kind.

And so the cycle begins, as I silce a deep cut

And I think of the dark place, my mind has me put.

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