Why am I here?
Why am I here is the question I ask myself every day, But the more that I think about it the clearer it becomes................
I wanted to do what I wanted
Things didn't go quite as planned
My life was passing by. Like grains of sand on a windy day.
My emotion began to pile up I longed for a way of release.
Lets try writing-there's not enough paper in the world.
Lets try talking-No one seems to care. They just want to judge.
What else is there to do...
I know take the blade cut my own flesh, see myself bleed.....I lay there satifised...I finally found what I longed for. My new found friend..The blade.
A way out became my addiction. I did it everyday. Deeper and deeper. Started out small, now they are bigger and longer. I can't hide the scars. I try so hard. Its too hot to wear long sleeves.
Days turn into month. Months turn into years.5 Years later. Things still haven't gotten any better. I kow I have to stop it has taken over my life.. I want to stop. I need to stop. Lets try yo speak up. No one hears my cry. Turn to my girlfriend. she breaks my heart. 'I can't date a psycho.' Are the words she said as she walked out of my life. My world is done. My world is gone. Take my life is my only option. She don't want you no one will. 'You were never loved.' the voice inside my head said.
Shall I slice my wrist? Or over dose on pills? Jump off a building. Might leave a mess. Shoot myself. DOn't own a gun. I know take a knnife and cut my veins til you can't bleed no more..............
When i finally awake I can't seem to move. My arms are tied don't. I look around. I look down. I'm restrained to a bed like a caged animal. How did i get here? I asked myself. Finslly someone comes.
'Hello my name is Dr.Greenberg your in Montefiore Er.' How did i get here. I want to go home. You can't until we clear you mentally. What are you saying I'm insane? Or is this some sick kind of game? NO not a game but reality. Reality is you almost died. Reality is you tried Suicide
What have I done. Maybe I will get the help that i finally need. Questions on top of questions. When will this thing end. I finally hear the words i didin't need. 'Your going to the hospital.4 winds you will see. In the car long ways from home.
Pulled up to a place with nice houses. But thats on the outside. Inside people are walking mean as ever. Some people even have a temper. This ain't right I don't belong here. I'm sorry I won't do it again. Thats what I said the first time. Now its the 4th time around and every time I'm here i ask..
WHY AM I HERE! ? ! ?
Shauntae Taylor's Other Poems
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