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Mistakes

The future is unknown.
But you will reap what you have sown.
You have made many choices.
Choices that are judged by many voices.
That one time you pulled out your blade,
you thought you had it made.
The blade glides across your frail skin.
You are sure you can never win.
Blood pours down your brittle wrist.
Death is next on your bucket list.
You can’t feel your barely beating heart.
It has been torn apart.
You miss how it used to beat freely.
You crave the usual plumpness of it, really.
You feel okay, it only hurts when you breathe.
Okay? At least that’s what others tend to believe.
You are screaming inside.
When is the last time you’ve cried?
You can’t cry.
Nobody ever hears you, it makes you want to keel over and die.
You desire someone to help you.
Anyone will do.
You feel you aren’t strong enough to stand alone in this miserable life.
You strife.
Sometimes misery overrules us, and it ends.
Only some are able to mend.

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