Trigger warning: Poem depicts imagery about self-harm and suicide.
My stomach is empty
Acid is rising up my throat
Causing my emotions to spill out
Ruining my tattered clothes
My wrist sears in pain
It is painted with self-inflicted cuts
These have pierced my veins
Causing soundless screams
In the form of seeping blood blots
It feels like my ragged breaths
Struggle in vain
The vomit stench overloads my senses
As the rooms spins
I’m viewing it all as an outsider
And my dead soul drifts thither.