glass

I wrote this in 2016. I was 17 years old and severely depressed, diagnosed with bipolar disorder, riddled with suicidal ideation. This poem conveys the pain and anguish I dealt with every day.

you starved yourself for days and didn't even lose one pound
you cried and cried, those deep brown eyes, until your body hit the ground 
come on, the voices say, you don't really want to live
oh what an offer, oh how appealing, oh what I would give 
to be free of this world would be so easy 
your head spins and spins, you feel so queasy 
you scream hate to a god that you don't know is real 
how is it fair to make you feel
a self hate so dark it could never heal
it hurts, it hurts that stabbing pain
you promised yourself you wouldn't go insane
but promises break like glass in a flame
and here you are, still stuck in this game
you catch your reflection through your tear glazed eyes
you fall to your knees and pray your demise
your heart is beating right out of your chest 
your head is saying just give it a rest 
you watch the cherry blossoms bloom
you watch the sun set, up rises the moon
you're brain is calm there's peace at last
you pull the trigger, gone too fast. 

Author's Note

Reading back on this writing from a much better place, I was shocked & appalled at the level of emotion and pain my words construed. My heart broke remembering vividly how lost and hopeless I felt at the time, and how much better I feel now. I never thought I’d be here, but here I am and god can I say it gets SO much better. If posting this can give even a fraction of hope to someone out there who needs it, I’d be so happy. If anyone feels the way I did when I wrote this, you are loved, I hear you, I feel your pain and please don’t give up because it gets unbelievably better.