Feeling a blade slice through my wrist,
A handful of pills in the other fist.
Lying in a corner, blood everywhere
People passing me, but they don’t care.
No one stops to see if I’m okay,
They never did, so why would they today?
People walking by from left to right
Not seeing how I’m trying to fight.
Trying to stop before it’s too late
But knowing I can’t avoid my fate.
Popping the pills one by one,
Until my hand is empty, I’m done.
There are no more pills to take,
Lost enough blood to make a lake,
Laying in the corner barely alive,
No one even trying to save my life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Geez, ...are you alright? I like the poem, but I do worry about the woman behind these words. Please know that you are not alone. Many of us have been there before. Hang in there and keep with the writing!