Behind the closed door,
there is a secret.
Behind the closed door,
is something horrid.
Behind the closed door,
is me.
Sprawled across the stone,
cold,
floor.
Tears streaming down my face,
and my fists slaming the floor quietly.
Repugnant thoughts swirl around the room,
and bounce off the walls.
Suicide,
and how it would feel,
just giving up,
and hurting others.
But what does it matter,
anymore?
The others that I would hurt,
already hurt me.
What's the point of putting one foot in front of the other,
day after day?
What's the point of living,
if all I get is pain?
What's the point,
if noone honestly cares?
So,
why should I try,
if all I get in return,
are thoughts of suicide,
pain,
and the feeling of being empty?
Author notes
I feel like this sometimes. I wrote this on the darkest day of my life.
A contest entry
- Write Me Pain by Broken Machine.
800 points, ended December 31, 2007, 26 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think?
Comments
-
WOW. Too well written for words............
-
-
I wrote that on that day... remeber... when I was feeling really bad... remeber? Thanx...
-
-
Wow, first I want to say there is ALWAYS someone who cares, I do. and other do as well I'm sure! Second this poem is really good. You have written it so well. Each word carefully chosen to present perfect imagery, Of a hurt sobbing young girl lying, on a cold concrete floor, having some of the saddest darkest thoughts she's ever had. That's the exact picture I recieved in my mind. You have a great way with writing, keep up the great work. & always remember the next day will be better even when it feels there is not light, I have been there!! ~Nikki
-
I care. I may or may not know you not sure cause I can't see your username but. I'll listen if you ever need to talk. I can relate to this poem. I'm sorry this happened to you. This is a great poem. Thank you for entering and I wish you luck in the contest. ( =
Adding your comment:
