⚠️ This poem contains potentially triggering themes of suicide and self-harm.
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If I shot my reflection,
Would that be murder?
If I just shot glass,
And didn't take it further
If I shot my spirit,
With a pistol on a stand,
If I weren't holding it,
Would red still be my hands?
If I shot my vision
And made myself blind,
Just destroyed a pair of glasses,
Is that still a crime?
Because I do these things
Every single day
With the thoughts in my head
And the threats that I say
But only to myself
Because to others that's assault
No one else deserves judgment
So me is all to insult
If I can eat myself to bones,
Without being a cannibal,
And if I can light tens of matches,
Pouring gasoline to be flammable,
Then one day my life will be taken,
Not by a truck or a burglar,
But by the innocence of my mind,
Because that's not murder.
It rhymes with "I'm fine"
And by logic
It's not a crime
Because the victim
Is the perpetrator
And can't be confined
Unless their jail
Is the afterlife
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⚠️ In no way does this poem encourage nor glorify suicide or self-harm. If you feel strong relations to this and/or are struggling with these issues, please seek help.
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Incoherent Emotions Of A Teenager
PoetryThe closest you may ever get to reading my mind -All collections are ongoing as I continue to add more poems-
