Rivers to Oceans

Sometimes i don't think other people understand, what it's like to want to die. Sometimes, it hurts so bad that you are in physical pain, wishing to die.

People just think depression is being sad but it's not. I used to think the same thing, and for the first two or so years i thought i was right.

I could manage it, with surface cuts on my thighs. Distracting myself with other people's problems.

But then i started to notice that when it was dark and i was lonely, i just wanted to be dead. No specific reason, just wanted to be dead.

Then one day, i took that razor to my wrist and it was the most relieving thing i had ever done to myself.

I watched as the blood ran down my arm

Into the water

Down the side of the tub

Relieving

And peaceful

That was my new favorite place, the bath

I thought the red rivers that my blood made in the water were beautiful and mesmerizing, the
way the blood dispurced when it hit the water

The feeling you get when the blood drips from your arm

My mother never understood the beauty of those red rivers, i was the only one

They sucked me in

I was obsessed with them

One day, i couldn't bear not to see those red rivers so i did it

Over and over and over

Arms and legs, hips and ribs

The red rivers turned into a red pond;

No, a red ocean and i thought

“Finally, this is it!”

So I sank into that beautiful ocean but sadly to my surprise…

I did not drown