The rope, pulled tight
The pills, scattered on the floor
The blades, surrounded by blood
The rooftop, a body tipping off the edge
The car, the girl standing in the headlights
The water, rippling slightly as she sinks
That's all the girl can see
The one who used to smile
The one who went to bed at 8
The one who didn't think about death
The girl who was scared of death
Not the one who welcomed it
Not the who desperately wished for it
The once sweet, innocent, little girl
Who's thoughts weren't clouded with suicide and depression
The one who was happy
She's gone
Long gone
She used to be someone I knew
She was replaced by the girl who hates
Who cries herself to sleep at night
The one without any friends
The one who doesn't want to live, not in the slightest bit
She who thinks about ending it all every night
Both of them were me
One was just the blissful past
The other is reality
Cold, merciless reality
YOU ARE READING
The End Of The Road
PoetryPoetry for the dead and dying. For the ones just done trying. Here's the words for you. It's a bloody dream come true. I can't promise it'll help you get through. But if your mind is dark It'll leave its mark It'll make your bleeding heart Just t...
