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Cheyenne Bermudez

Suicide Notes I Started

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A collection of poems detailing my descent into a dark depression that I just couldn't shake. I always thought that I'd eventually be able to recover and write a sequel entitled, “Surviving Suicide: A Relapse on Life”. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to live long enough to write it.
Эта книга сейчас недоступна
9 бумажных страниц
Дата публикации оригинала
2020
Год выхода издания
2020
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Впечатления

  • Kabangu Kabanguделится впечатлением3 года назад

    Soulful and raw

  • b7891437274делится впечатлением3 года назад
    👍Worth reading

  • Ana Sofía Parra Romeroделится впечатлением3 года назад
    👍Worth reading
    🔮Hidden Depths

Цитаты

  • daryaцитирует3 года назад
    Suicide,
    A pretty lie
    That hides
    The ugly truth
    We try to deny.
  • Eveцитирует3 года назад
    Rough Draft
    Dear parents,

    I’m sorry that I’ll never grow up

    To be the person you wanted me to be

    I’m sorry that when you think of me

    All you’ll remember are the signs

    You didn’t see

    Dear sister,

    I’m sorry that I had to leave you behind

    But it was my time to go

    I’m sorry it was so soon;

    I didn’t get a chance

    To be a good role model

    Dear best friend,

    I’m sorry for all the late night phone calls

    Worrying you with my panic attacks

    I’m sorry for being such a burden

    Now

    You can finally get your life back

    And last, but not least,

    Dear me,

    I’m so sorry that I let myself think

    The only way to be free of this pain

    Was to stop living
  • Eveцитирует3 года назад
    How Am I Doing?
    How am I doing?

    A vague question with an even vaguer meaning

    Actually, it is not a question with any meaning

    Just a statement to reassure you that my seams

    Are still intact with your perception of my being

    Because that question is not about my well-being

    Rather, a common saying to validate that human feeling

    Of empathy

    That makes you feel like a good human being

    If you truly desire to witness my feelings

    Look me dead in the eye

    To find death inside

    The tears I’ve killed

    To hide a soul always weeping

    How am I doing?

    What you expect to hear is, “Fine,”

    Because it is much easier to hide behind

    False pleasantries

    And to put your mind at ease

    That I’m not going to jump off the nearest building

    Or slit my wrists so my veins spew red

    Never-ending

    As I force an ending to my story

    I was never taught how to express my feelings

    And you were never taught how to receive

    Any other answer

    Than the one we are programmed into hearing

    How am I doing?

    I am like a crack on a windshield

    Ready to shatter in a shower of glass

    At the next impact

    Because I cannot handle another attack

    Against my psyche

    I am barely holding on by a string

    I am tearing completely apart at the seams

    I am in so much agony

    That I feel apathy

    And everything

    Turns into nothing with any meaning

    So, how am I doing?

    I’m merely existing

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