Poets is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.
How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.
How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.
To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.Show less
Clawing my way out of this hell hole is so tiresome.
Trying to make sense of this whirling mist of colors.
So blurry, spinning so fast, I can’t seem to catch up to my brain.
Thoughts of suicide seem warm and calming instead of cold and prickly.
Warm sensations of the thoughts cloud my brain and push them to the front of my mind.
“end it all make the pain go away, end this pain that you hold inside” , my mind calls out.
My mind beats widely against me.
I stop to think of all the people in my life that don’t make me feel worthless, but it doesn’t seem to out weigh the pleasant thoughts of slitting my wrists and watching the warm blood ooze from the cuts in my dying wrist.
I make my choice, the cold metal feels good against my arm.
Cutting deeper and deeper the pain feels more like a pleasure as I get closer to my goal.
Slowly the blood starts to seep out from my wrist.
Laughing I lay down and watch the blood flowing.
Non stop like a wild fire the blood forms an attractive puddle surrounding my arm.
As I lay there my own blood covers the side of my face and turns some of my hair darker then it is I’m draining myself of my life source.
I start to grow faint.
Pictures of the ones I love flashed in front of my face.
Then suddenly, the faces morph to those of the ones who brought this upon me.
The grimaced faces I grew to loath
Then like they came they disappeared as my body grows cold.
Nothing is left but an inanimate body lying with a smile on her bloody face...