"One cut, two cuts, three cuts, four, voices saying to die you whore,
I know I should, it's for the best,
I'm just an ugly worthless mess.
What should I use? A gun or rope?
Knowing now there is no hope,
I chose the pills, chugged one by one,
All my problems, officially done,
Laying on my bed, there's no going back,
And my eyesight slowly turns to black,
My parents find me, dead by night,
But it is just for attention, right?"
~ay
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Hello
PoetryA collection of poems and stories for the broken, lost, afraid, recovery, heartbroken, depressed, and many more. *Trigger warning possibly for some of these*
