No One Has to Know
No one has to know.
I wipe away blood once more.
These words are different than the usual insults cut into myself.
These are positive.
I've been to counseling.
I take the pills.
I talk to people.
I compliment myself.
I'm confident.
Yet I'm not.
A stronger voice says I'm worthless.
Yet another word.
Etched into my stomach.
People know my story.
They think I'm kidding.
They laugh and smile.
Like it's a fucking joke.
So my suicide attempt two nights ago..
That's a joke to you?
Maybe it's better like this.
The way I do it.
No one has to know.
I wipe away blood once more.
These words are different than the usual insults cut into myself.
These are positive.
I've been to counseling.
I take the pills.
I talk to people.
I compliment myself.
I'm confident.
Yet I'm not.
A stronger voice says I'm worthless.
Yet another word.
Etched into my stomach.
People know my story.
They think I'm kidding.
They laugh and smile.
Like it's a fucking joke.
So my suicide attempt two nights ago..
That's a joke to you?
Maybe it's better like this.
The way I do it.
No one has to know.
♠ ♠ ♠
PLEASE DO NOT FREAK OUT OVER THIS. I WROTE THIS A WHILE AGO. IM OBVIOUSLY STILL ALIVE.I don't need your panic and advice. As of now, I have my depression under control. I don't want a depression hotline, advice to see therapists, pills, anything like that. Please look past that and think about the poem, not anything else.