Poetry Competition Ends 23rd November 2024 3:39pm
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Fighting Suicide
happiness
i can hear the roll-up door at the back of the truck
bouncing up and down
people are honking
i forgot to latch it shut again
i don't care
i hate this job
i'm wondering
if a .380 against my temple would kill me
or just hurt like hell
there's a homeless guy on the corner
beating a lamppost with a tent pole
and with an expression
somewhere between mental illness
and happiness
maybe it's both
could i be happy?
i deal with my loneliness
by stalking a lady on the internet
someone i knew some years ago
that i've come to admire
i obsesse over her
i sent the friend request with a fake name
it felt wrong
it all feels wrong
i wonder
if maybe one day
i could pass out at the wheel
and wake up in another life
bouncing up and down
people are honking
i forgot to latch it shut again
i don't care
i hate this job
i'm wondering
if a .380 against my temple would kill me
or just hurt like hell
there's a homeless guy on the corner
beating a lamppost with a tent pole
and with an expression
somewhere between mental illness
and happiness
maybe it's both
could i be happy?
i deal with my loneliness
by stalking a lady on the internet
someone i knew some years ago
that i've come to admire
i obsesse over her
i sent the friend request with a fake name
it felt wrong
it all feels wrong
i wonder
if maybe one day
i could pass out at the wheel
and wake up in another life
Written by Grae
(Bryan Gray)
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Mental Illness
I don't know what made me want to do this,
Or how I thought it would be glamorous.
While on my break, I was feeling down,
Wondering just why I'm even around.
Back on the clock, I was sweeping the lot;
A cigarette butt appeared on the spot.
It was my job to place it in the trash;
To that, I did – after I got a rash.
That's because, if only on a bad day,
I made my arm out to be an ashtray.
All I can say is, I wasn't thinking,
As self-destruction was in the making.
Friends, when mental illness happens to you,
You do things you normally wouldn't do.
As a result, there are consequences,
And you will be coming to your senses.
For me, all I ever got was a scar
On my arm; that told me I went too far.
The fact that I still work is a blessing;
Otherwise, life could be more distressing.
Or how I thought it would be glamorous.
While on my break, I was feeling down,
Wondering just why I'm even around.
Back on the clock, I was sweeping the lot;
A cigarette butt appeared on the spot.
It was my job to place it in the trash;
To that, I did – after I got a rash.
That's because, if only on a bad day,
I made my arm out to be an ashtray.
All I can say is, I wasn't thinking,
As self-destruction was in the making.
Friends, when mental illness happens to you,
You do things you normally wouldn't do.
As a result, there are consequences,
And you will be coming to your senses.
For me, all I ever got was a scar
On my arm; that told me I went too far.
The fact that I still work is a blessing;
Otherwise, life could be more distressing.
Written by DallasNichols
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I Walk The Line
I walk the line between confidence and suicide, A delicate balance, a tightrope to abide.
One step too far, and the fall is so deep, The darkness below, a secret I keep.
The world sees my strength, my unwavering stride, But inside, a battle rages, a war I can't hide.
Confidence, a mask I wear with such grace, Hiding the turmoil that dwells in this place.
The line is so thin, a razor's edge to tread, Uncertainty looms, a constant dread.
Yet, I press on, determined to find my way, Hoping to reach the light of a brighter day.
One step too far, and the fall is so deep, The darkness below, a secret I keep.
The world sees my strength, my unwavering stride, But inside, a battle rages, a war I can't hide.
Confidence, a mask I wear with such grace, Hiding the turmoil that dwells in this place.
The line is so thin, a razor's edge to tread, Uncertainty looms, a constant dread.
Yet, I press on, determined to find my way, Hoping to reach the light of a brighter day.
Written by Goldy-992
(David Gold)
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