Writing is one of my coping mechanisms when extremely suicidal. Often, I'll sit down and write with tears in my eyes- whether it a suicide notes, a goodbye, venting or even something autobiographical, all of which, most of the time, lead me to feeling better afterwards and refraining from hurting myself. I've wrote hundreds of poems throughout the past few years. Here's a recent one I made.
Id love to read your poems!
A Conversation With My Body
A slight, wispy cough whispers,
'You've stopped caring, old boy, ''
The blood seeps from the blisters,
'It's your own body you destroy, ''
The marks stretched upon my skin,
'I'm hurting, I'm bulging, won't fit, ''
Tobacco stains etched therein,
''I thought you were gonna quit? ''
Pains here, pains there,
''Shall we rest in the bower? ''
Dirty feet, greasy hair,
''Please, o' please, shower''
See, depression is my only excuse,
For hanging my body without a noose
Id love to read your poems!
A Conversation With My Body
A slight, wispy cough whispers,
'You've stopped caring, old boy, ''
The blood seeps from the blisters,
'It's your own body you destroy, ''
The marks stretched upon my skin,
'I'm hurting, I'm bulging, won't fit, ''
Tobacco stains etched therein,
''I thought you were gonna quit? ''
Pains here, pains there,
''Shall we rest in the bower? ''
Dirty feet, greasy hair,
''Please, o' please, shower''
See, depression is my only excuse,
For hanging my body without a noose
