Ideation

They won’t talk to me,
The complete denial of my existence.
A blade across the wrist.

Nothing ends up well–
My own piece of hell.
A bullet to the head.

I can’t move on
The longest hangover at life.
A glassful of acid?

I am trapped,
Nowhere to go but down.
A plunge into cold oblivion.

Too much of this,
Too little of that.
A deadly dose to end all these.

I never wanted this,
Never wanted to end it
But that’s a moot point now.

These thoughts I obsess about.
I am what the world can live without,
The one everybody can miss out.

Never call this weakness,
Cowardice or stupidity–
It’s a silent cry for help,
Writ in blood and tears.

———————————————–

Disclaimer:
To those who know me personally, chill. My ideation isn’t coming back today. I just want to put into words what some people with similar experiences are possibly going through.

To those who are in this phase right now, you aren’t alone, and things will be better eventually. Nothing is perfect– but something good is infinitely better than nothing at all. Especially with life.

To those witnessing others showing signs of suicidal tendencies, be a dear and be nice to them–make them feel loved.

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