The Twist, She Is Me.

As she looks back it’s been, the same situation but a different cause.
Sitting in her room, in the corner with a knife.
She knew it was so wrong, but it felt so right….
The next thing she is watching as she slowly makes her first cut.
She had told herself it was a one time thing, just a fling.
As she sits in the same corner, the story twists a bit, this it’s not the razor to the wrist but the pills and skipping her meals.
Dying sounded so good to her…..
Later that day she went to the medicine cabinet and snatched up all the pills, with the hopes….
She took the pills and awaited….. Yet nothing, not a thing.
The story takes another turn.
Now it’s not the pill and the razor but she topped it off with booze and put the razor to her wrist and the pills in her mouth and put the bottle to her lips.
She watched the crimson liquids run down her arms.
You think the story is over? Well it’s just begun.
She made three more attempts… none have worked…to no avail..
She tried four
She thought ‘more, more more.’
Try five
‘Still alive’
She finally gave up trying, she would cut not to die but to feel.
She wanted to feel anything, anything at all, even if it meant pain.
Then she made her last attempt.
She had that feeling inside that it would work.
She didn’t bother to tell anyone not even her best friend or boyfriend.
She couldn’t bear it any longer.
She sat on the floor with the pills and razor.
As she did so she shook with her sobs, she was scared to die but didn’t want to keep on living.
Here’s where her story ends. She was a coward and couldn’t take her own life, even if she wanted to…in the final hour she was a confident coward….

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 2.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of bandy dandy

bandy dandy

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I'm sixteen I love music and wiring their my escape I know I shouldn't be so unhappy at my age but I've been through a lot so no hate please
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

1 Comment on "The Twist, She Is Me."

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Aishwarya Gupta

Lovely…..She is me too.. 🙂



She long poem

She Keeps a Love to Nurture her Immature And a Vigor to Sacrifice the Fruits of Nature Her Dreams are Curtained Behind the Window Panes And Chained into Darkness with Teary Stains Her Audacity of Giving Birth to our Family

I Know Me

I Know Me short poem

It was a freak accident of epithelium under anaesthesia. You place a window on to a hollow brain. The money makes the monkey out of you. A green light blocks the fish, your memory, to swim in black thoughts. The

Yukon Call Me Panic

Yukon Call Me Panic ode

Vane glorious and absolutistic, though I defiantly, cavalierly, and blithely attest Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy mine acidic breast houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic, barbaric, and bubonic cannibalistic demons within thy safely guarded Pandora chest atomic cesium clock timed to

The Lost Me

The Lost Me short poem

I was so much into you That I lost my friends, My family and most importantly Myself. My dear you, You hurt me so much That I lost you, And I lost myself too. I was depressed, tensed here You

The Sea Soaked She And The Sun

The Sea Soaked She And The Sun ode

Away from the crowd She whispered her tale. To the cresting waves, To the frothy foam, To the flying seagulls, They knew her soul. They were waiting for her To wash her heart. She left the remains, She was carrying