A knife at my throat
A rope around my neck
A razor to my wrists
A gun pointing to my head
What else can I do?
What more can I say?
I need your help right now
Please don’t walk away.
You never hear my screams
You never see me cry.
I no longer want to go on
I’m not sure if I know why.
I try to get these feelings out
Maybe write them down
You read my poems and look at me
With a concerned but worried frown.
I laugh off suggestions of suicide
As if I’d really kill me.
But what if I do feel there’s no way out
like, I can no longer see?
Please don’t leave me now, ‘cause I really need a friend
For if my life can go nowhere, then surely it must end.
Written on 15 June 1994 when I was 16.