Sunday night. Driving to church. anger, sadness, pain. I slam the car door. Run home, Run away, From all my pain. Scissors opened. Slicing, cutting, bleeding all over. Above my fridge, medicine. I'm sick! I'm sick! Two by two twenty pills I swallowed. Vodka stinging my throat. Couch supporting my back. Staring at my arm. God Jessie, what have you done? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm alive. I want to leave. Stand Fall Sleep Die? No Mission Failed. I'm a failure
Reason for writing:
This poem is about my suicide attempt a few months back. I'm better now though. Don't worry.
Birth sign: Leo
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