Fighting Suicide
Walking down these vacant streets.
My thoughts are turning dark, my heart barely beats.
I dread to take every step, wondering, is this my last?
The world around me, it's moving so fast.
I pick up a leaf in the shape of a heart.
I pretend it's yours, as I tear it apart.
Looking at the pieces, I begin to weep.
Knowing you don't care, the pain cuts into me, deep.
Finally, the road comes to an end, my life flashes before my eyes.
Another wall punched, another piece breaks, I think of your lies.
Now is the moment of truth, I hold the power.
Do I choose this as my last hour?
I close my eyes, a voice says to stay strong.
I wipe away the tears, finally I see where I belong.
I will fight the nightmares which make me bleed.
Block out dark thoughts upon which the devils feed.
My pen is my razor, my paper is my skin.
My blood flows within, as I try not to sin.
These words that you read.
Is the blood that I bleed.

 By: Kelly Roth