Our blades
our pills,
and our nooses
were not just objects.
They were the love
we longed for, when the
world left us bare and
nothing.
The thing we had as
the Earth shattered around us,
and as the idea of loneliness
came to surround our days.
Our minds set to reverse,
whilst our body walked forward,
and the echoes of ourselves
were drowned out.
A tidal wave of regret pushed
us down, and we couldn’t find
our way home.
We were just moving round in a
never ending wheel that
we could never get
off.
Something, anything, was our
saviour when our hearts couldn’t
take life anymore, and we
wore feelings on our sleeves.
Though the world refused
to accept us for what we
were.
Recovery was just a dream.
LegallyFierceFeminist 