Replaying the words over and over in your mind, “KILL YOUR SELF, KILL YOUR SELF, KILL YOUR SELF!!”

And letting your emotions get the best of you.
Breaking down, screaming at yourself in the mirror,
“Why can’t I be normal?!?!”

Crying, sobbing your heart out.
Crying so hard that you can’t even breath.
Sobbing so hard you throw up.

Then you make up your mind.
You start writing a note.
What kind you note?
A suicide note.

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry.
Because I’m not.
For, I am only sorry to whom this might hurt.
But you’ve told me to kill myself millions of times.
My own family.
My own blood.

And when I finally try, you say, ‘you didn’t even put any effort into it’.
You’ve slashed your words into my heart.
To deep.
I’ve tried to push it away, but I can’t.
I’m bleeding out, and no one is here to save me.
I’ve tried to save myself, but I’m drowning.

I feel as if everywhere I go, people are judging me.
And they are.
That’s just the world these days.

But I don’t understand, why you say these things.
When I have done nothing to you.
You’ve spat your venom.
And you’ve won.
I’m done.

I’ve bleed out, onto the floor beneath us.
And all you could do is watch.
Watch as I slowly fall away.”

Home alone.
I walk to my room, dig and dig in my dresser.
Then I finally find what I’m looking for.
I open the bottle, and start eating.
Crushing the white pills with my teeth.
Choking in the power.
Gagging on the dryness and the taste.
Then I dig some more, find more bottles, and do the same thing.
Then I dig some more, and find something sharp.
I start digging into my legs.
Realizing that I’m doing nothing, I find my wrist.
And I slice.
Pushing gently at first, then putting everything I have into it.
Forcing the foreign object inside me.
Feeling it gliding inside of me, slicing, and tearing open my skin.
Seeing and feeling the blood rush toward the tiles beneath me.
Going numb.
And falling to the floor.
But still slicing.
Crawling into the kitchen, grapping the rest,
And start eating once more.
Hands going numb, I can’t move now.
Now just sobbing in one spot, hearing the frantic calls from a friend who has knowledge of what’s happening.
Wondering what’s going through his mind and thinking of no one else.
Hearing the messages ringing on my phone.
You want to answer but you’re stuck in one spot.
And now your vision is blurring.
You can feel how soaked you are from your own blood.
So, you cry even more.
You know your mother is on her way from your friends calling her.
But as you start feeling absolutely nothing, with the blackness taking over.
With each breath coming out in sharp pains.
She runs into the door screaming your name while sobbing.
She sees you, and that horrified look she gives you, crushes your soul.
And you’ve realized what you’ve done.
You feel your eyelids shutting, and you try to keep them open, but you can’t.
And now everything is dark.
And you can’t hear, or see, or feel.
Then you’re gone.
And who is here to care?
-Justin Thorne

Biography