Depression...
I lock the door,
I can‘t take this much more,
I slash my arm,
It feels like it did no harm.
I mop up the blood,
I don‘t feel how I should,
Where is the relief?
How it feels as problems leave.
I raise my wrist,
It must be done with a twist,
Use a razor blade edge,
Then stumble over to the ledge.
As the blood drips,
I feel like a young girl who tripped,
I look over the sea,
This is the end of me.
I go for the jump,
My insides form a lump,
I hit the water,
But do nothing to stay above the surface.
I can‘t take this much more,
I slash my arm,
It feels like it did no harm.
I mop up the blood,
I don‘t feel how I should,
Where is the relief?
How it feels as problems leave.
I raise my wrist,
It must be done with a twist,
Use a razor blade edge,
Then stumble over to the ledge.
As the blood drips,
I feel like a young girl who tripped,
I look over the sea,
This is the end of me.
I go for the jump,
My insides form a lump,
I hit the water,
But do nothing to stay above the surface.
♠ ♠ ♠
I know the last two lines don‘t rhyme, but I still think it works. And when I said that this is how I felt, I didn‘t mean, “everday I feel like jumping off a cliff“ but more like thats what part of me needs for me to stay sane.