You sit here and yell at me saying I'm full of lies.
I stand here and scream back more,
One after another.
I can't escape the dark place I'm in.
Starving of happiness and full of demonic voices.
Constantly trying to find a way out,
I keep slipping and getting bruised.
The darkness is constantly engulfing me,
It's almost pitch dark.
Help me…
I can't see the hand that once pulled me out.
I'm almost gone.
Heading to the dark side is all the choice I have.
Don't cry.
Don't miss me,
I wanted to leave this cruel, hate-filled world anyways.
I'll miss just you.
Justin.
Vanished,
I am.
Your poem is all the more touching because I am familiar with the pain that you describe, I write a lot on the subject of depression death and suicide, maybe you would want to read my poems Requiem and The Funeral Pyre.Thank you for this wonderful work 10/10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Anna, the best way to avoid sounding like an angst-driven teenager is to work with images so you're not just telling the reader how terrible you feel. Read some good contemporary poets like Louise Gluck to see how it's done. If you have time, check out my new website: jeffersoncarterverse.com Tell me what you think. Yrs, JC