i dedicated a notebook to my suicide notes.
stuffed the notes under my bed, until i worked up the courage to actually kill myself.
i slept on top of the guilt, sleepless from the chilling thought of others having to live through the pain of me being gone.
my mattress filled with the tears of my best friends. the nightmares of my boyfriend. the guilt of my family.
it's a scary thought knowing that the only reason you're alive is to keep others happy.
i knew i had to change that.
YOU ARE READING
a racing mind
Poetrya collection of poetry, dedicated to the aching hearts who need help finding the words to describe their sorrow, but also words to help you see the best in things. - all poetry written by me unless stated otherwise -
