When he was young he used to fight,
For no reason he had so many demons,
Rolling in his head.
When he was young he used to punch holes in the walls of his House,
Used to beat on his little brother
Leaving him bruises just cause .
When he was young his dad told him
After seeing the hole his son made
"Be a real fucking man and hit something
That you know won't break.
Let's see how you feel when you
Hurt your fist."
So he searched for the devil
And when he found him
He socked him in the face.
Leaving his head faceless,
Bouncing off his shoulders
Rolling in the ground
Making a loud Sounds
And causing all hell to drown.
He said with the devils head
Hanging on his right hand,
"Dad I guess I found the devils
I can't control myself at times
I think I need help,
Coping with my anger
I just get so enraged I want to
To the point Where it's making me insane,
My hair is falling off
I'm becoming bald
It's like a cancer that I just can't
My blood pumps faster and it's
Because all this times I was
Bullied when I was younger
For being deaf
And having a hearing aid
All my friends thought it was
Funny and you taught
Me that there's no such thing as
Friends so I guess I have none.
But I still wonder why everyone else
Is this the type of shit you say to a kid?
This head should have been yours and
I should collect it in my room.
But you're right I still need to practice
Letting out my anger and
Hit things that want break."
So then he began to cut himself,
Because in his mind
It is better to inflict pain toward
Himself than others.
He saw it like a punishment,
Each time he said something mean,
Each time he felt the urge to hit something,
Each time he wanted to scream at his
Little brother for doing something stupid.
Cut, cut, cut, with a razor In hidden places
Let the blood flow.
When his dad saw this his dad said,
"Why are you cutting yourself?"
As if he was supposed to have an
His dad continued,
"If want to Inflict real pain
Be a fucking man and make
A real cut."
So the kid slit his wrists,
Punching holes in the wall till
His knuckles broke and he bled to death.
That same day his little brother saw him,
Crying and screaming he ran to his
"Mom! Mom! What happened to Matthew?! Hes laying on the floor with
Ketchup all over himself
Like in the movies"
When the mom sees him she wraps
His wounds to stop the bleeding
Hoping that there was still hope
To begin with.
She told her younger son to call 911
As she began to give her dead son
And opening his mouth to
Breathe into him
She refused to believe it was too late,
She refused to believe
She has lost her son.
She didn't want to give up,
But she knew he was
Gone and he wasn't coming back.
She asks God why Oh why
Why does it have to be his time,
She remembers all the times
She said things she didn't mean
All the times he asked if they
Could buy him some new Clothes
and they just said no.
For the times he wanted to go outside
And play ball at the park
And his mom always said she was
Just too busy.
Because of his "problem"
He was separated from the family
What kind of a life is that,
Should you even ask that?
Take care of those you claim to love,
And take care of those you
Are so close to.
Love them, care for them,
Hug them when you say goodbye
Like you won't ever see them again.
When you judge someone realize
That You're making the choice to
Kill them on the inside.
And when they respond they are killing you.
Instead of telling others that they're
Instead of telling other they have a problem,
Cause you don't know what people go through.
Suicide has been growing,
And the whole world is depressed,
Everybody is just in a hurry to go
To a better place.
But it's not the way,
Believe me it's not the way.
You have people that will die for you,
Siblings who look up to you,
People who smile when you smile.
There needs to be a change.
When he was young he used to fight,
Need to talk?
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741