trigger warning: discussion of suicidal thoughts. need to talk? crisis lines are here.
i start tearing up at the bus stop as the world goes cold.
please. dear god. don’t let go.
i write suicide notes on my phone at the bus stop with tears streaming down my cheeks, as the world goes cold.
no one loves you. no one wants you. no one needs you. you’re completely. fucking. alone.
and god. you’re so stupid. this whole thing was so. fucking. stupid.
honestly, i can’t beleive you fell for it.
To anyone experiencing suicidal thoughts who’s reading this, this poem is in no way a validation of suicide, just an outlet for some of the things a mental illness can make you feel. If you’re feeling the same way I did when I wrote this, please reach out for help–people can be really crappy, but there are also really amazing ones out there, and reaching out does help. I promise. Keep going. Even if no one else around you does, I and so many other people you haven’t even met yet want you here, need you here. It will get better. ❤