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Speaking Up

I’m a suicidal kid...

And it doesn’t really make sense

because I really love the life I’ve lived.

Go to church in the mornin’

Pray for the sinning that I did,

Ask God for more patience;

Surely, it’s something He could Forgive…


I wanna run away

I’m feeling balanced on the edge of a switch-blade

And I don’t know which road to take.

I feel like my heartbeat is being delayed

Like its beating on a barricade.

I wanna leave it all behind

Before my lines begin to fray


Like my torn jeans; they hint

At the ramshackle state my heart is in...

Wish I knew how to stitch it up again

But I don’t even know where to begin;

I can’t work a needle or a thread.

I’m a suicidal kid,

And this isn’t a fashion statement.


“Hey,you pull off that look so well,

Hope your life’s been going swell,”

Really? Cause I feel like a walking bombshell.

If you bothered to listen you’d hear a death knell.

No, it doesn’t belong to me,

But rather to all the ones who already fell.


They sit in my lungs.

Their pain festered like an abscess,

Instead of help they are told to impress or suppress.

We are told watercolor looks best.

I’ve always preferred oils, but I digress.

I’m sick and tired of people

Romanticizing the idea of my death!


But I’m feeling that l'appel du vide

Every time the broken bleed

How can you forget that we’re all just human beings?

How can you expect me to run on gasoline?

Open up your eyes,

Don’t let yourself be blinded by that smokescreen.


Listen, this poem is my confession;

I’m in a never-ending war against my own depression

And every step through the mud is definitely progression

But your casual words just sink me into regression.

Don’t give me that look,

You could help me with the mess I’m in.


I’m a suicidal kid,

And if you wanna save me, then listen.

Open up your senses,

Pay a little more attention.

I’m asking for your help; we’re all here on a mission.

I’m a suicidal kid

Speaking up for those who are no longer livin’.

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