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.