Eyes opening.
White walls, white floors, white blankets, and white clothes.
Nothing has ever felt more painful.
Looking back on what you did.
The memories come flooding in.
The pills, the scissors, the fear.
The wondering.
Weather they cared enough to call, to text back.
What if I never texted anyone?
Would anyone get a gut feeling?
Would they text me, call me?
Or would I not be here, typing this like I am.
Would you play my song, come to the funeral?
Would you cry, wonder what if?
Sit at home and think about what happened.
Wonder, what if you had noticed the signs, could you have prevented this?
No.
I don’t think so.
I don’t think you would.
The signs were perfectly clear.
And I thought all hope was lost in my life.
But,
Right in the middle of everything, you call.
Right in the middle, of all the pills, the cutting, you called me.
You begged me to stop, to go puke.
But I couldn’t.
With each word, you said, you changed my mind.
With each breath, I took, you forced me to look at the reality of what I was doing.
I couldn’t face the truth, so I hung up.
You called so many times, but I didn’t answer.
You sent so many messages, but I couldn’t seem to care.
I could hear my phone ringing in the other room.
I didn’t think anyone would care.
And when I realized that someone did, it was too late.
Too late to stop, too late to care.
Justin Thorne
Poetry
Comments are closed.
1 Likes
1414 Views
Share:
Another beautiful but sad piece. You convey the emotion so well. Again, best wishes to you!