A slam poetry style poem about my mental health. Vent poem. |
I’m gauging how people would react if I died. I’m imagining the looks on their faces, what they’d do when they found out I’d passed away. My mother would cry- Of course she would, what good mother wouldn’t sob in the face of their child’s body My father would be angry, angry at everything- Angry at himself for not preventing it, angry at me for doing it, angry at the world for pushing me to this, angry at god for letting it happen. My brother would be confused. Why did I tell him I couldn’t lose him when I was already losing myself? He’d wonder why I did it while he stares into my empty room. How will my teachers feel when they find out? Will they be tied to their indifference? I’m just another student, one less to teach What about my friends in school, will they be sad at all? I’m straining my imagination to picture them with mourning, But some part of my mind is telling me its so unrealistic that any of them, my teachers and peers, even my friends- will be affected. Will the people who wronged me feel guilt when they hear the news Will they, somehow, believe that I’m dead because of them? I can’t say that they’re the only contribution to my suicide- But really, I don’t think they’ll care. They didn’t care before, when they tore my heart apart When I hang myself they’ll be just as indifferent. I’m gauging how people will feel when I’m dead because I’m hoping they’ll care. I’m preplanning my death because I hate being alive I’m imagining how I’ll do it and I’ve got so many options I’m gauging how the world will react when I’m gone- Because I wish I was a more important piece in the puzzle. |