Wed, 06/10/2020 - 13:48 -- MARs

TRIGGER WARNING :: mentions of suicide ::


I think to myself  ‘This feels like drowning,’

As my tears fill my bathtub.

This feels like dying,

as my tears tie themselves around my neck.

This feels like gasping for air, 

as my tears fill my lungs.

This feels like sinking, 

as my tears burn the skin on my wrists.

This feels like it’s too much to take.

This feels like it isn’t worth going on.

This feels like I’m feeling too much.

This feels like I’m already dead.

I’m not dead yet,

I’m not dead yet,

I’m not dead yet,

so why am I being buried?

This poem is about: 


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