Failure Isn't Always a Bad Thing

I place the cool steel to my temple,

Breathing ragged.

Heart racing.

Eye searching for someone to enter,

To help.

Heart wishing that there was another way.

Mind knowing there wasn’t one.

Today is the day.

The date that I’ll die.

The hell and torture will finally be over.

I hear the click of the safety,

My hands tremor with trepidation.

Fingers caressing the trigger.



Waking slowly,

Unaware of anything.

Eyes seemingly glued shut.

It’s not over.

My mind screams ‘no,’

My heart sings.

However, I’m more in fear than ever.

I failed.



I’m stuck here.

Taking my little pills of blue, green, and orange,

All to keep me sane.

They want me to talk.

To let it all go.

It won’t happen.

Not from me.

I just shrug and just stay quiet.





I bounce on the balls of my feet.

Waiting for mama.

I’m finally out of this God-awful place.

Something has changed.

No longer an eternal pit in my chest.

I feel like I can breathe.



I meet her.

Fiery red hair,

She says she can help.

For some reason I know I can trust her.

She’ll never tell my secrets.

For once I don’t lie.

I let it all pour out,

Every last thing.

Then I cry.



I wake to birds chirping.

It’s been a year.

To the day.

Since I felt that way.

I breathe,

Air filling, expanding my lungs.

The sun filtering through the blinds,

Making the dust dance in the air.

I get dressed,

Walk to the door,

Exit my home,

and walk really slow.

Its time for school.

My old hell.

But I’m okay,

no one can change me.

Only I can.

And who says I have to?

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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