#suicideawareness

199 posts
  • claralynne 4w

    I.C.U.

    Words.
    Letters.
    Punctuation.
    Emotional fluctuation.
    Compiled on a piece of paper.
    Overflowing with thoughts you can't taper.
    Feeling nulll.
    I stare at the words Ive produced.
    Will my reader be seduced?
    I find it strange how I wonder if my darkness is dark enough?
    This darkness hurts.
    And I can't see.
    Blinded.
    Why would anyone ever want to portray darkness as beautiful?
    What is wrong with me?
    Inferiority.

    ..But then I remember the satin ,white blooms of moon flowers.
    And how they only bloom at night.
    Even bats can admire their beauty....
    Because they know already that in darkness, you need no sight.

    A Dazzling darkness.
    Words.
    And Empty spaces.
    But, who's really listening?
    Who really sees you?
    The emperor of emotion.
    Words are the Moon.
    And life is the ocean.
    Go with it and worry not...
    Fill your mind with beautiful thought.
    Even when you don't have the words to write.
    No amount of darkness could ever dim your light.
    What are you afraid of?
    Describe the dagger in your heart.
    Your words will free you.
    Even in darkness,
    I see you.
    ©claralynne

  • in_fragments 7w

    Been depressed, fighting thoughts of suicide lately, thinking about all the trees I used to climb, how they're changing mostly for the worst. These cycles come and go for me- on Unbearable Depression Mode in this poem. But at least I have to stay alive to write a poem about dying. Even when they're horrific and sad, the words keep me here every single day. I can never stop for too long.

    If any you are experiencing these same scary things, be sure not to keep it bottled in. Talk to someone you trust and love, express it in a journal or a piece of art, find a therapist who can help guide you out of the darkness. You deserve to discover the light that's waiting for you. ��
    #pod #narrative #poem #thoughts #nature #trees #life #death #suicide #suicideawareness #depression #recovery @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Death Is A Tree In The Suburbs

    P̟a̟r̟t̟ O̟n̟e̟: R̟e̟f̟l̟e̟c̟t̟i̟o̟n̟s̟
    In my backyard,
    in this modern townhouse suburb,
    where the alleyways are grassy
    and venerable earth
    lies suffocated by cement;
    where evergreen pines and maple trees
    loom loftily over our homes;
    the scent of homemade barbeque
    wafts its way around,
    and children scream out in play,
    racing each other
    through their cul-de-sacs,
    circling back by the end of the day.

    Right now, the morning sun
    is arriving tall across our doors,
    bringing both disturbance
    and opportunity in its golden eye.
    My sight is becoming more obscured
    by the old tree outside my window-
    the one my parents planted
    when they moved in, 30 years before
    a future like mine was on their minds.
    It used to be so small,
    like every infant sapling, now it towers
    over every roof and moving horizon,
    clipping every sun ray
    behind the veins of large leaves...

    A grand, developed elm tree
    on the other side of our street;
    standing sure rooted
    next to the house on the end-
    the tree we would voraciously climb
    when we were loud, intrepid children,
    paying no mind
    to the old lady living inside; the one
    who screamed at us for climbing
    every time we tried,
    until the year she died
    and we had no idea. All we had known
    was that our favorite tree was back-
    because the old lady was dead,
    her home abandoned,
    and we were far too young
    to notice the peculiar change.

    Time doesn't wait for you
    to notice it, like the sky which races
    in circles at a speed too fast to feel,
    like the trees that keep growing
    without checking in for permission.
    Death is a tree in the suburbs-
    one too large to keep curated,
    so it is stunted or cut down; and Life
    is a pernicious vine,
    pestering the cracks in the sidewalk
    as it breaks its way through them,
    growing high and away from concrete
    or along the sides of wooden sheds;
    always going up, and up, and up...
    because nature may
    be dying at our hands- even still,
    it always wins out in the end.

    I wonder how high
    these tree branches will take me...
    Maybe up into the clouds,
    if I never, ever stop.
    Scaling their thick limbs, sitting midair
    is the closest we can come
    to flying without steel wings.
    What stands between Life and Death
    is air, and a body to get you up there-
    skin and bone, between tree and vine,
    surrounded by sky; the realm
    where life and death conjoin...





    P̟a̟r̟t̟ T̟w̟o̟: I̟d̟e̟a̟t̟i̟o̟n̟s̟
    I don't climb anymore.
    I've been too exhausted for decades.
    Now I grumble and bend and ache
    like the trees here do;
    one side of themselves trimmed
    completely away,
    half-dead with hardly a chance,
    and the stern winds pushing
    their branches close to snapping.
    Death is a tree in the suburbs-
    every one I've fallen from,
    every one that taught me
    how to feel alive-
    we continue to kill them,
    and I continue to die with them.
    It was all so different
    when we were younger.
    Now I helplessly watch it all oscillate,
    I get older, feel more ruinous,
    with less reason to be alive.
    The trees awaken towards the sun,
    they beckon me to climb my favorite one,
    they whisper this, "If you would die
    to see the beauty of this world
    one more time, then what have you
    to lose?"

    What have I to lose?





    P̟a̟r̟t̟ T̟h̟r̟e̟e̟: T̟h̟e̟ S̟p̟l̟i̟t̟-S̟e̟c̟o̟n̟d̟ S̟n̟a̟p̟
    Death is a tree in the suburbs,
    and I, a tired child, am listening-
    clamoring and ascending it,
    falling one last time for it.
    I climb, and I climb,
    going up, and up, and up,
    clutching the timbered boughs so tightly
    they etch imprints into my palms.
    I watch the final stage of the sunrise
    through decaying orange leaves
    and empty bird's nests,
    a hundred feet up or more.
    I watch the sky bleed its colors,
    turning into familiar, beautiful cerulean.
    I hear the birds begin their chirping,
    closer and sharper than from land.
    I wonder if they are speaking to me.
    I wonder if they are confused,
    intrigued, unconcerned.
    I observe the morning dew drops dancing
    on my wild wooden throne,
    forming like gems on my face
    and on the green grass below.
    One more breath, and the vertigo begins.
    I inhale again and feel myself
    smile as I sway, close my eyes
    and relax...
    then one more long exhale
    as the tree branch holding me
    abruptly snaps.

    It allows me to fall so rapidly,
    before my brain can rush to meet it-
    a ragdoll body flying downwards
    out of the sunlight,
    landing with a rigid crash
    deep into the immense shade of fate-
    with no one to watch it go but the birds,
    the trees, hidden insects, the sky,
    and the eye of the rising sun.
    It is a most cathartic drop for all.
    ©in_fragments

  • lovenotes_from_carolyn 8w

    For Charley, who has bravely chosen to live another day. ♥️

    DEVIL INSIDE
    by lovenotes_from_carolyn
    Oh Death, you masked marauder!
    You heathen, of ill contempt
    You'll not leave here with my son
    You've failed in your attempt!

    Oh, you had him in your sights
    As you dug your clutches in
    But a mother's love is stronger
    And I will not let you win!!

    You sicken me, you demon
    For you prey on desperate souls
    As you shamelessly rejoice
    Each time the death knell tolls

    You sang to my son so sweetly
    You filled his head with lies
    You offered him nothing but false hope
    That would lead to his own demise

    So cruel are your intentions
    So selfish are your ways
    A hunter of lost souls are you
    Who damns them for all of their days

    Your victims are too weak to see it
    Too lost within their pain
    Never once do they suspect
    That their agony is your gain

    But I've seen you for what you are
    And I know what it is that you do
    And you sir, shall not have my son
    Let the truth be the end of you

    So let it be known you're defeated
    Aye, your days here are done
    My boy is intent now on healing
    You've lost, you damn fool, and we've won.
    ©lovenotes_from_carolyn 11/23/2021

    *Title borrowed from a song by INXS.

    **Due to ongoing situations and our impending move, I'll remain inactive (aside from admin duties) through January. Thank you for your patience and understanding. ��

    #writersnetwork #miraquill #bipolardisorder #chronicdepression #suicideawareness #healingthroughlove #poweroflove

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  • miraybooks 21w

    Suicide

    You know the real irony of life?
    A suicidal mind could be the man at the center of the bar, laughing and making jokes and buying drinks for everyone else. It could be the girl who just bought a new outfit and recounts how amazing life is. It could be that person who just got promoted at work or the couple whose love life seems perfect.
    It doesn't have to be the person who isolates themselves from the world with tear-stained eyes and scars on the wrist.
    It could be anyone at any place at any time. That's what makes it so frightening.

  • one_upp1 24w

    Sincerest Apology, Dear Mom..

    How many ways can I say that I'm sorry,
    If I could play it back id replay the past,
    Partially change what happened
    But I can't erase my actions n mistakes I made
    N retrace em back
    And recreate a path you'd be okay with,
    Dad deviated leaving us crashing
    Stranded hanging by a frayed strand
    His abandonment wasn't part of our daily planner,
    A young man famished encased in madness
    Starting manhood damaged n at a disadvantage,
    Words alone couldnt state the panic,
    He hurt us both left us deserted, alone, dazed n frantic..
    I may have been wrong in ways of outlandish behavior
    But burying my dad after my best friend
    Certainly wasn't something I fathomed ,
    Part of me departed dearly disregarded in under a year
    I started partyin harder harboring pain no one knew
    I turned cold then turned both shoulders to everyone
    Even you ,
    My apologies believe me it's eating me alive
    But if you could've been in my shoes too
    Maybe you would understand my faults in all of this,
    Regret i harvest holding onto all of em
    Vexed from all the problems I caused
    I'm invested in hardship,
    A product of repentance,
    Indebted to a cost causing endless obstacles
    From an amendment n thoughts of bringing an end to it, Regardless of it neverending is inevitable,
    I'm avoiding severance from voids of irrelevant choices
    From when I was just boy who lost a friend and a father
    Felt like everything was falling, a martyr in hell
    N left lost in the darkeness.
    ©one_upp1

  • journeyhale 31w

    Edit *Thank you so much for editor's choice! Wow this so cool!**

    I am still mad at you
    I still fume sometimes
    Raging anger in a torrent.

    They ask how I can be angry
    at the dead.
    I reply "very easily,
    Grief is not a place for coherent thought."

    Grief is a place where your soul is torn from your body and shredded into tiny pieces.

    Grief is a place of madness,
    A place where your gut falls to the floor
    Seconds before your knees.

    Grief is a place where emotions are Oceans in A King Tide,
    Churning and drowning you, never giving repreive.

    It is never a place that makes sense.
    It is where I'm still mad at you and you're still gone.
    ©journeyhale
    #grief #loss #life #anger #rage #suicideawareness #suicide #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod

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    Grief is a Place

    They ask how I can be angry
    at the dead.
    I reply "very easily,
    Grief is not a place for coherent thought."

    It is never a place that makes sense.
    It is where I'm still mad at you and you're still gone.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 36w

    More

    I am ok.
    I am back where the water is and where the soft mist engulfs, away from the biting cold and ice that scrapes the skin when you fall.
    Somehow it hurts more than when you are warm and hurt yourself. It is a thud on numb skin which already aches from the cold.

    I am back where I can hear the waves roar and they aren't within me.
    Where I can see them crash but they are on the sand instead of over my head.

    I still have the bad days, but the feelings of drowning are less and I am starting to be able to keep my head above water again.

    Depression is the shattering of the soul, the breaking of the mind. Your identity disappears and someone less takes your place.

    I did not like my lesser self.

    She was bitter and angry. She was empty. She was a husk with a pinched brow who didn't know how to feel joy anymore.
    She couldn't find solace in anything.
    My lesser self strained under the weight of her world in silence. Always needing to do for herself, but resentful because no one could help.

    My lesser self created her own secret hell.

    My lesser self needed help, but it took forever to get the courage to say it out loud, even longer to actually go get it.

    My lesser self had become lesser because her brain lacked what it needed to be whole and functioning.

    It needed to cry for help. It needed to scream with its mouth gaping and fists clenched, "I AM NOT DOING OK."
    "I AM NOT FINE!" Even if the scream was heard as a whisper beneath breath in the midst of unsure tears.

    My lesser self is still in the back of my mind, waiting for me to stop my meds.
    Like a monster in the darkness, with clacking claws and gnashing teeth.

    I will always have to fight that monster, to push it back and tell it that it can't have me today, it will not steal the peace that comes from lifting my face to the misty Coastal rain. It will not steal the deep breaths I take, allowing myself to be still and smell the forever green forest outside my window.

    No, you will not have me today.

    It will not take away the moments of peace I find, even if they are just slivers of the day.
    I will not let it consume me this time.

    Today, I will not be lesser.
    Today, I will be more.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 36w

    More

    I am ok.
    I am back where the water is and where the soft mist engulfs, away from the biting cold and ice that scrapes the skin when you fall.
    Somehow it hurts more than when you are warm and hurt yourself. It is a thud on numb skin which already aches from the cold.

    I am back where I can hear the waves roar and they aren't within me.
    Where I can see them crash but they are on the sand instead of over my head.

    I still have the bad days, but the feelings of drowning are less and I am starting to be able to keep my head above water again.

    Depression is the shattering of the soul, the breaking of the mind. Your identity disappears and someone less takes your place.

    I did not like my lesser self.

    She was bitter and angry. She was empty. She was a husk with a pinched brow who didn't know how to feel joy anymore.
    She couldn't find solace in anything.
    My lesser self strained under the weight of her world in silence. Always needing to do for herself, but resentful because no one could help.

    My lesser self created her own secret hell.

    My lesser self needed help, but it took forever to get the courage to say it out loud, even longer to actually go get it.

    My lesser self had become lesser because her brain lacked what it needed to be whole and functioning.

    It needed to cry for help. It needed to scream with its mouth gaping and fists clenched, "I AM NOT DOING OK."
    "I AM NOT FINE!" Even if the scream was heard as a whisper beneath breath in the midst of unsure tears.

    My lesser self is still in the back of my mind, waiting for me to stop my meds.
    Like a monster in the darkness, with clacking claws and gnashing teeth.

    I will always have to fight that monster, to push it back and tell it that it can't have me today, it will not steal the peace that comes from lifting my face to the misty Coastal rain. It will not steal the deep breaths I take, allowing myself to be still and smell the forever green forest outside my window.

    No, you will not have me today.

    It will not take away the moments of peace I find, even if they are just slivers of the day.
    I will not let it consume me this time.

    Today, I will not be lesser.
    Today, I will be more.
    ©journeyhale

  • zephyr_of_fire 38w

    The means for an end

    When he felt like it became too much, he no longer fought for a solution,
    but instead, he sought after an end.


    ©zephyr_of_fire

  • nighty 42w

    Midnight quotes......
    #1


    It's hard forget when the scars still remain.....



    ©sausagesoy999
    ©nighty

  • queeniedoll1924 49w

    It's Only Blood

    Blood, it's only blood
    It doesn't hurt. Don't worry
    I'm not afraid. I'll sit here closely to myself
    I'll calmly wait. Everything will slow down. Time will shut my eyes
    It's getting quiet.The blackbirds start to cry.
    What a lovely sound. It's getting light out. I listen for my heartbeat. No one is around.
    There is warm light now, it's calling me. So welcoming so new It's only blood...
    What the hell did I do?
    ©queeniedoll1924

  • jmaj161914 55w

    Christmas curse

    What I want for Christmas
    I wish....
    Oh wait
    Wishings still a thing
    Nah
    What I stole
    I stole love and kept it for myself
    In the beginning I was the highest on the shelf
    But it made me feel worse
    Like I was somebody else
    It was a Christmas curse
    Feeling like you have no soul
    But what else is new
    As I walk to the cue
    The judge asks what happened
    "Why did you steal"
    What will happen?
    I said "I wanted to feel"
    "I wanted to feel loved again"
    I pleaded guilty
    I spent my Christmas in jail with nobody
    To love or to hold me

    ©majesty_

  • shadownik 56w

    Today a suicide victim breathed her last in our care.. I still don't understand why they would arrive at such a conclusion. Why do you think it's so hopeless...she wasn't even much older than me.
    Don't you think as long There is life there is hope.

    Please don't lose all hope in a moment of sadness. You may be alone but you won't be alone all your life right. Find people talk to them fight for your cause.

    #suicideawareness
    @writersnetwork @mirakee @odysseus @orotund @writersbay
    #hope #valuelife

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    Sailing in a sea of bitterness
    Isn't it worthwhile for a single drop of happiness
    A moment of weakness
    In exchange for a lifetime of experience?

    Look at the world, at the sea of human heads
    Do you think they give so much as shreds

    Don't you think that as long there is life there is hope
    You may cope or you may elope
    Though it's something everyone may deplore
    Just don't go knockin' on heavens door
    ©shadownik

  • jmaj161914 56w

    I was crying when I wrote this out of frustration that I'm just not good enough with something that I'm finally good at. But this is me at my darkest in darkness
    #lgbtq+ #life #metoo #mylife #problems #thisisme #unashamed #feels #depression #cry #sad #gay #deep #dark #daughter #father #FR #helpme #why #escape #tears #forgotten #suicideawareness #alien #writingcontest #creativearena #invisible #wot @writersnetwork @mirakee @readwriteunite

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    Truly Invisible; my life

    Invisible
    That's what I feel like
    A joke
    Incredible
    At times I choke
    Probable
    The last time I got poked
    Nothings different
    Reliable?
    Yes but I'm insignificant
    It's not undeniable
    In words I can't
    I'm invisible
    Never was incredible
    But when I see it shine
    Truth
    Pain that's unbearable
    My life's been cursed
    Truth
    Being a empaths not curable
    But I'm loved
    Lie
    I can say I was loved?
    Lie
    Was I ever loved?
    Opinion
    I was never loved
    Fact
    That's incredible
    For the more I give
    The less you take
    Cause you've lost interest
    That's not a mistake
    For what I feel inside
    Words wouldn't deny
    I'm invisible
    And that's not a lie
    For the tears that fall
    Aren't seen
    I hide them like my identity
    Fresh out the closet as you can see
    But not even that could comfort me
    For I found out when I am who I am
    And people don't accept that
    And your treated the same as before
    Put it all in CAP's
    Your parents
    Second chance
    Don't accept you
    What were your plans
    Despised
    Rejected
    Queer
    Faggot
    Names I've all heard
    But to hear It from your family sounds absurd
    It's not but my life is
    To end it I don't have the strength and feel weak because of it
    To think life has a meaning you know that's right
    To make the people around you happy I do that every day-and-night
    What about me
    How selfish can that be
    I just want to live my life without uncertainty
    To be free
    Free from judgement
    But I guess that's not important
    Invisible
    RIGHT
    THATS WHAT I AM
    SO BE IT YOU CANT SEE ME
    I mean you never did
    I'm upset I admit
    But to tell you the truth I would never commit
    ________
    Invisible
    That's what I am
    I could own it scream it but no one gives a damn
    Is my problems are visible
    And sometimes forget who I A.M
    I used to be happy
    Youth
    But even that killed me
    Life
    And thats the truth
    ©majesty_

  • jmaj161914 56w

    Invisible

    Invisible
    That is what I've become
    Not noticed
    Not even for my poems
    Like jr to high school
    Forgotten Rejected
    Am I not good enough
    Outcast
    Family disowned me too
    My life
    Invisible
    ©majesty_

  • jmaj161914 56w

    This a new form... idk but when you cry when you write is when you know it's true
    Plz follow need support don't wanna do something for nothing
    #lgbtq+ #life #metoo #mylife #problems #thisisme #unashamed #feels #depression #cry #sad #gay #deep #dark #daughter #father #FR #helpme #why #escape #tears #forgotten #suicideawareness #writingcontest #creativearena @writersnetwork @mirakee @readwriteunite

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    Tainted; My story

    Alone with my thoughts
    Dirty,
    poisoned,
    polluted
    Names of my past
    Concluded
    Broken, no cast
    Prologued
    Story like most was all too perfect
    Drug addicted mother
    Pregnant
    Baby to go to another
    Adoption
    Grateful but not knowing
    In closet but not accepted
    Different,
    special,
    normal,
    World
    Disappointing,
    disgusting,
    heinous,
    Home
    ©majesty_

  • jmaj161914 56w

    A cry for help isn't vertical or horizontal but reaching out to the ones you trust
    ©majesty_

  • jmaj161914 56w

    Just because your trash doesn't mean you can't do great things. Its called garbage can, not garbage can't
    ©majesty_

  • jmaj161914 56w

    I'd rather be cutting through my problems than cutting through my wrists
    ©majesty_

  • not_her 56w

    A Thousand Times

    If one has decided to die for real, then one must've died a thousand times in one's mind by then.

    ©nheadly