A poem about depression and the choices that are made by those who are depressed. |
Is it really worth it To watch the blood drip from the tip of the razor blade That now sits still on the bathroom counter To see it covered in a familiar red liquid And know that the liquid is yours Is is actually worth it to see the open wound on your wrist After so many painful memories come rushing back to you To be reminded of all the sorrow and depressing moments you went through And feel the blood oozing from the cut and the pulsing of the skin Why must we pick up the blades and dig them deep Deep, deep into our souls and know that soon we will be forgotten And hope that we could have had something better if only we tried But at the last moment realize we had everything that we wanted And hoped maybe the soul will repair the wound before it is too late Is it too much to ask for just one bottle of pills So we can have our last high before our time is up Or do we have to earn it in some hysterical way In which there is no way possible What would we go through to get that high Would we give up those that we love Or let those you don't even know suffer Just so we could feel for the last time The world spinning out of control Is it really worth it For a little pain and suffering To choke down every pill Or drown every blade Just so we could feel pain |