the belt. (pt. 2)


Medicine.
It is only makeup, you know.
I feel it, but I don't show.
Maybe this is why
I take this way out.
After all, this is just a dead end road.

Medicine, they are just like cars.
They cover up whats really there.
The black asphalt, but you see the yellow lines.
My crippled mind, but you see the tears falling from my eyes.

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WARNING: THIS POEM CONTAINS SENSITIVE CONTENT THAT MAY BE DISTURBING TO OTHERS. This poem is from the absolute darkest seemingly rock-bottom pit in my life. It is in no way encouraging suicide, or suggesting substance abuse, etc. If any readers are relating to this poem or have any thoughts of suicide or self harm OR if you know a friend or anyone at all who feels this way, please call 1-800-273-8255. My intended purpose for this poem is to warn others of how serious this issue is as I went through it at a time. I felt that my family was neglecting the situation which only drove me farther. So please, please pay close attention to your loved ones actions, expressions, and LISTEN to them when they call out. Nothing is more important. Thank you.