2014
There is no pill that can cure me.
No words can reassure me.
The world already told me,
"Darling, you're messed up."
"You've endured too much pain,
For someone of your young age.
We think it'd be in your best interest
If we locked you far away."
They say confinement well help,
Solitude will heal.
But this is no way of living.
I have found myself in hell.
"The doctors will help.
Maybe now you will see.
Life is a gift only granted
To only those willing to receive."
They tell you to live,
While they prepare you to die.
And now I pretend to see
How wrong I was about life.
But I do not want this future.
I refuse to be locked up.
I swear I'm not depressed.
I'll learn to keep my mouth shut.
So when the doctor asks me
If I've felt suicidal lately
I will turn to her and say
"Why, I've never heard of such a thing."
YOU ARE READING
Cyanide Lakes
Poetry❝WE TURN OUR PAIN INTO BEAUTY AND HOPE OTHERS WILL RELATE.❞ Please read the introductory chapter for an extensive trigger-warning. This particular collection contains a wide variety of poems detailing thoughts of insecurity, depression, suicide, etc...
