This is just a narrative poem I wrote from the perspective of a suicidal person. It’s astonishing how many people view mental illness as something someone can control. I am NOT suicidal at all. Just clarifying before you read it.
I feel like I’m losing my mind
I didn’t do the crime but I’m stuck doing the time
Part of me wants to leave a note so you know why
The other part of me knows you won’t care when I’m no longer there
You didn’t care when I was there and now I’m flying away.
I hope but doubt you’ll realize my pain.
Everybody says it’s the cowards way out but do me a favor before you judge me
Hold a blade to your wrist and split it, watch ever bad decision you’ve ever made flash within your own mind and witness a vision what if you went with the wrong religion what if there is a hell and you end up in it are you ready to find out what’s in the mysterious beyond then tell me I’m a coward. I took the brave way out and I’m ready to leave Hades now and enter hell. I’m ready to sacrifice myself to let others live on without my incompetent stealth. I’m doing you a favor, act like you really miss me but you didn’t miss me when I was still living. You didn’t ask me why my wrist bleed you made a joke about depression not being real, is it fucking real now. Everyday was a thousand blades in every orifice and maybe now you’ll feel how I felt when I was still around.
I only needed one knife to die, I took the rest of them out
You didn’t expect it but you realize why I am dead now
And now you’re seeing everything hindsight do you have regrets now?
I wasn’t feigning my plights
I was waking every time
I was running out of reasons to stay alive
And I ran out of reasons I’m trying to make it right
But all I see is wrong, it’s like every day is playing the lottery and I never win
Your silence speaks louder than your words ever did
Every time I tried to tell someone what was wrong all I heard was endless quips
Is it real now? Is suicide the cowards way out? Are you brave now? Can you tell me what happens when you take your last breath, when you realize the future, present and past is dead. When the panic sets and you realize you can’t turn back this is it
If I had found just one more reason to stay alive I’d be
But its too late, my life is behind me
You say you didn’t want me to go after the fact
But you handed me the blade I used, I just took it out of my back
If my eulogy had been spoken during my life
You might not now be seeing everything hindsight