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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #1994342
Inspired by the death of my good friend.
In a darkened room a scared girl sits,
With a knife in her heart and pain on her lips.
Considering death but already dead,
"just give me a gun!" she said.
But no one heard her, 'cause there was no voice,
Alone In her head, hers was the choice.
A battle too hard, a war too strong,
she decided she couldn't go on.
On antidepressants, but still sad,
She hid her real face and put on one glad.
Fooling all who saw the mask's lie,
But really, inside, she wanted to die.
She knew she was needed, she knew she was wanted,
But still the desire of her death haunted.
Telling her folks would mean real hell,
She would never get out, so she wouldn't tell.
She knew that her life might get better,
possibility of not, was stronger, however.
The choice changed often, 'tween life and death,
Even, Sometimes, in a single breath.
Past mistakes haunting,
The future daunting,
she could stand it no more.
Bloody tears on her face,
Clasping her, death's sweet embrace,
Is the girl you see right now.

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