Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


CreationEarth Nature Photos

Best Suicide Poems

Below are the all-time best Suicide poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of suicide poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Suicide poems, articles about Suicide poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Suicide poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

Definition & Discussion of Suicide Poems
Read Suicide Poems
New Suicide Poems

See also: Best Famous Poems

New Suicide Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Suicide poems are below this new poems list.

Pregnant suicide note by Panyane , Palesa
SELF INFLICTED - A Suicide Story by Simpson, Carlene
Suicide Girl by Christian, Katie
Not suicide by Marine, Aqua
Not suicide by Marine, Aqua
Suicide game by Christian, Katie
Suicide By White Horses by Robinson, Terry
Suicide watch by Pepino, Francisco
life after suicide by Ahaneku, Kingson
Suicide Schemes by Green, Maryann

View all new Suicide Poems

Poems are below this ad.

The Best Suicide Poems

Details | Suicide Poem | |

Her Masterpiece Is Her Story

Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.

She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that cutting is your form of bliss?

No one would have guessed that she does it.
No one would have considered this one.
This girl is forever fighting a battle,
that she thinks the demons have won.

Her artwork is all over her,
Her beauty is on her thighs,
and if you look in her old trash,
you'll find her letters of goodbye.

Her masterpiece is quite disturbing,
Her masterpiece is a little gory,
Her artwork is her escape.
Let me tell you her story.

She compares herself to every person,
She is compared to each girl.
She thinks she's hideous,
And there's this boy that is her world.

She was bullied and picked on,
She was teased from head to toe,
Hard to believe that her best friend,
was her one and only foe.

Then later she disliked every little thing,
Her body, face and even her mind,
Soon she saw she was a failure,
and it was just in due time...

That this girl couldn't take it anymore
She'd decided she was done living this,
So one day she went home
and decided to end it.

Everyday for multiple days,
This girl would try to drown,
Hard to believe this girl at school,
never ever wore a frown.

Sometimes she'd just fall asleep crying,
Praying that she'd be enough,
Because she didn't want to leave her family.
She knew about their sweet love.

This girl found hope in small things eventually,
She soon would see this beautiful light,
and find a REAL best friend,
that helped her put up a fight.

Her masterpiece soon was leaving,
Her artwork was almost faded,
and it gave her a sick feeling,
the feeling of being jaded.

She found a boy that actually loved her,
And showed her love exists,
And this boy too had a masterpiece,
placed close to his wrists.

He related to her and she related to him.
She kissed his artwork and said he's not alone,
When she cut herself it hurt him,
Her masterpiece now wasn't just her own.

Her masterpiece effected others,
Her artwork wasn't just for herself,
She now had people, 
who saw her cries for help.

And then her family found out,
So then they saw the art too,
to them they were just scars,
To her they were the truth.

She's trying to be okay now,
She thinks she might survive,
Even though they didn't think
to take away the knives.

Copyright © Madison Marie | Year Posted 2013

More great poems below...


Details | Suicide Poem | |

bloody wrists

I'm sitting on the floor
I'm crying so much more
trying to erase this pain
trying to forget your face
sitting here with the blade in my hand
running so slow blood dripping down
in a deep red color
flowing freely the way i want to feel

I'm sitting on the floor 
holding my hand out
I'm holding a bottle
a bottle filled with pills
I'm crying so hard
the pain is unbearable
I'm feeling so weak 

I'm sitting here on this floor 
holding a blade
crying like crazy
trying to take this pain away
I'm trying my best trying to fight
my eyelids feel heavy
my door is so far
the whispered yells to far
falling deep in to sleep

deep..deep..deep..deep
I'm laying on a bed
I'm so confused 
where am i?
my throat feels sore
my body screams in pain
I'm looking around
I'm in a small white room

i try to move,
my hands are stuck
i try to get up
i feel restraints 
what happened to me?

I'm laying on a bed
trying to get up
my head hurts
a nurse is here
a shot is administered 
i drift to sleep
I'm in the psych ward
why am i here?

I'm lying on a bed
laying so still 
my wrists hurts to no end
I'm crying out loud
screaming and cussing
my body hurts
i can't remember

all i remember are my bloody wrists
and a bottle of pills
all i remember is the pain i was in.....




Copyright © GRACIE GONZALEZ | Year Posted 2013


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Wood Stages

I Death Wood

My skeleton, the trembling tree,
hit by the axes of ambulances
due to the decay of disease.
My muscles languish as wilted leaves.
My organs are rotting red apples.
My soul is the searing wind, while
my thoughts tick like termites.

The ivy of MS illness wraps with
waste around my twisted trunk.
Suddenly, spiders of suicide 
descend onto my branches.
They crawl across my broken bark,
crackling my rustic eyesight.

The sun, a golden unicorn, gone
into the forest of healthy laughter.
My wilted wood wanes in a cloud coma
with no moon, stars or watercolor sky.
Where are my wildflowers? 
Where is my green gleam?
I wait and wish for black lighting.

II Birth Wood

My family, the fog where most
float in the underworld as veiled
ghosts along the grassy grounds.
My thirsty roots reach for them
like wild hands hungry in ebony soil.
Sometimes their memory perfumes
and pollinates my heart with prayers.

My friends are a flock of birds that
become singing bracelets upon my bark.
Their feathers grace me like silk hope.
Their beaks devour the suicide spiders
on my weak wood, and their cheerful 
songs encourage me to bloom once again. 

Full moon flashes as a white wizard,
wearing a cloak of competitive clouds,
while moody night smolders as his black hat.
Spirals of opal light make my bark bright.
Spirit moonbeams weave within my wood,
healing hollow shadows, and allowing me to 
taste the monthly midnight milk of magic.

III Rain Wood

Spring steams with saturating rainfall,
sealing my splinters, washing away webs,
and the dirt of daily depression. 
My sap slides like a slow moving sea.
My tree bends and bows in all
directions, sprouting with joy.
Jade fire erupts along my branches.

Raindrops beat like crystal hearts
upon my boughs and my blossoms.
These clear spheres of nature inspire 
rebirth and germination of all life.
My apples sing as flutes, my leaves
clap hands, and my trunk plays harp.

My lover, the lone eagle, appears and flaps
his feathered wings upon my wooden nest.
Our love is best lived in traveling weather.
My limbs taste the last drops of dissipating dew
as the crocheting clouds release final rivers.
Deer court in the fermenting forest,
while golden unicorn grazes upon me.

February 7th 2008

Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2015


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Turn The Page

Moments are faded ink written in the journal of my past.
As they fade away, the future comes on too fast.
I look back, it is luxury as I opened my mental cage,
Releasing the love, the disappointment, the silliness and rage.

I'm reflected in a photograph, thirty years my younger me,
There I was smiling sitting toddler proud on my daddy's knee.

Turn the page.

The girls were all in pink dresses, the men in suits and ties,
We stood in front of the church the day us kids got baptized.

Turn the page.

A dozen eggs with an Easter celebration, our up north vacation,
Winning an award from the radio station, the high school graduation.

Turn the page.

The album ends at nineteen, fourteen years today.
My daddy took his own life, in a horrible ugly way.
All I have are the time touched photos and memories that fade.
My life is full of life now, but the pain festers in the shade.
As time it passes, understanding comes to me with age,
It's okay to feel, okay to deal, but know when to turn the page.

Writing my journal, one day at a time, 
The past is the past, and the memories are mine.
Turning the page, the world is now my stage.


March 20, 2015

Suicide is a very ugly thing. It ends the pain for the doer, but the ripples in the water it causes reaches out farther can can be imagined. We all have issues, and there is always help. Never be afraid to ask for help, to ask for advice, or to ask for a hug. Pages keep turning and there may be a better chapter ahead. Love is in every drop of ink but sometimes it is hard to see in the blackness. Know it is there. Hugsxx

Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2015


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Forgotten By Tomorrow

She stands at the edge of the precipice,
looking down towards her future.
The last tears that she will ever cry,
falling from her eyes, 
then falling into oblivion.
She watches them drop 
as they disappear forever.
Yet, she laughs in the face of death.
Would it really matter if she took the leap?
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

The wind blowing at her back,
pushes her to the edge.
Almost agreeing with her final decision,
and encouraging her to jump.

A thousand thoughts and memories
racing through her mind.

Her first day of school.
Her tenth birthday party.
The lonely, awkward days of her teenage years.
The day she discovered poetry.
The moment she first saw him.
The day she thought that she was worth something.
The day when all of that became a lie.

Every memory 
that never made the pages of a history book.
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

She exists to no one but herself.
In the blink of an eye, she decides her fate.
Her feet leave the ground,
and yet, she did not fall.
Out of nowhere he appeared,
and carefully grabbed her hand.
Pulling her back to reality,
saving her from the brink of disaster.
He held her, as her tears stained his jacket.
Old tears of sadness,
mixed with new tears of happiness.

She was remembered by yesterday.
Before she was forgotten by tomorrow.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014


Details | Suicide Poem | |

read this please

They hate you because your you
They make up lies and call it true
They're fake behind your back
Hoping someday that you'll crack.

They hate you because your real.
no matter what they say you always heal
They're surprised to see you rise,
That you're not affected by all these lies


They hate you because you smile at them
It shows them that your a real gem
You are always true and do your best :)
Sometimes these haters just cant test

They hate you for no reason
Despite it all, you smile
whatever the reason
At the end of the day
All i'm gonna say
All i plan to be 
IS ME


-Sanderline Fleury :)

Copyright © Sanderline Fleury | Year Posted 2013


Details | Suicide Poem | |

The cutter



She went to sleep
closing her eyes
beginning to dream
of broken butterflies
tearing her lovely monarch wings
on faithless love that angels sings...

She finds shiny metal in kitchen sink
in an evening absent light
she finds peace in cuts of pink
watching crimson blood flow feels so right..

Starlight shines upon her tears
I whisper darling, you cannot bleed
all of your suicidal fears
at night when you begin to cry
I'll sing you a lover's lullaby..

My love do not wish that you were dead
dreaming of an absent pulse
laying on silken sheets bleeding red
I will offer love so do not bleed
give me your knife I am all you need...
~ ~ ~ ~

Copyright © Ken Carroll | Year Posted 2014


Details | Suicide Poem | |

When Madness Rides on Moonlight

Days pass into the weak, loveless nights. The moon blinks.
The stars swirl beneath Van Gogh’s brush, as he links.
Comet light passes twisting cypresses, a schizophrenic’s concussion.
On and on, the wind twirls the trees, and does not complain,
nor, does the cosmos cringe awaiting reciprocation.
Lightning bugs mimic the stars. Atoms sneer.

Those who spout love and friendship abandon him, sneering.
Their images dance beneath his lids, when he blinks.
Though denied a compass, his soul does not reciprocate.
Through pain, physical and mental, he still connects, links
with the life which absorbs and excludes him, not complaining.
Nights pass without his mistress, Sien. His mind is concussive.

His face trembles torn in the brass sounds of the storm’s concussions.
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker, all of them, sneer. 
How unmerciful, this cycle, this God to whom he does not complain.
If lack of mercy is just, may he not know why? Time blinks.
Thinking causes pain. Only painting connects him, he links.
He accepts art and the pain, as gifts, choosing not to reciprocate.

Voices, the paint, the moon, the voices say, reciprocate.
He chases mice. The cheese plate falls with a loud concussion.
He rubs his gnarled hands across his lids. He maintains the link. 
How? Why? But, the mice eating his cheese only sneer.
The sunflowers shimmer and wiggle in their vase, as he blinks.
Stumbling, he falls attempting to sit, the chair does not complain.

He had thought God clear as sunlight; yet, the paint complained. 
He was not God; he could not capture the light. He must reciprocate.
After all, who was he, but a mere man, ashes to dust; life blinks.
Ah death, le grand mal, no minor concussion,
He must escape, join the celestial spin, and avoid their sneers.
Sick, yes, sick to death of not being understood, not linking.

The brushes call. He prostitutes himself. Oil spills, connecting, linking.
Theo, brother, never would he forgive. Many others would complain.
Ah, Gauguin, His dear friend, he would understand and not sneer.
If God was truly a loving God, surely, he thought; God will not reciprocate.
The mockers who did not live in Dante’s nine levels of hellish concussion,
they will call his actions cowardly. Merciless, they did not live between the blinks.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015


Details | Suicide Poem | |

WHITE DEVIL

White Devil

Call it what you want!
I call it, his favorite season hunt...
Two hoofs imprinted near the riverfront.
Echoes calling my soul with a loud, ferocious grunt.

I smell it in the air, lost upon the white golden stair.
A deep frost dwelling all over his lair.
Tangled by the frozen grip of my hair.
A decision, I declare to give what he won't spare.

This man has no red suit..
Lurking in the white to recruit.
A midnight suicide clouding me with pollute.
I pause my tongue on mute, lost in a white castle chute.

Headed straight into a shivering blazing star path.
The land of snow covered like a bubble bath.
Breaking icicles like crystal glass, suck3d by the milky-way mass.
Multiplying bruises like a cascade, enjoying the aftermath. 

Finding a way to slit the pain in my domain.
I grab a coat and lace my name to Mary-Jane.
Inserting the finest line to ease the drain in my brain.
I drink the icy scotch, and drop a silver nickel into the devils cocaine.

Fallen in to his bait, its too late, I got 7 lines on my dinner plate.
I'm covered up in snow, enjoying the amazing way to suffocate.
Eight beats to every minute is my new heart rate.
I'm reaching for the white golden gate, where the white devil waits.

Drowning like liquor in a frappe mixing the winter's high tide.
Death to my soul is where I hide under this white blanket neutral side.
Too heavy to uplift this storm lost in the devil's cold custard suicide guide.
Waking up in a coma, in a world where white collides with the rage of suicide.

by;p.d.   
 (( Trapped in a snowy blizzard))

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010


Details | Suicide Poem | |

On The Wings Of An Angel

Today is the day I have
chosen  to die,on the wings
of an ANGEL I will fly high

I feel I could have been 
better while I was here,
but on the wings of an
ANGEL,I will have no fear.

All my life I had to put up
a fight,but on the wings
of an ANGEL I will be alright.

Things may have been better
if id'e taken time to pray,now
I am on the wings of an ANGEL
and I am going to be ok.


                   Please LORD watch over my loved one's.

                        Colleen Marie Bono


Copyright © Colleen Bono | Year Posted 2009


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Suicide Dolls

Suicide Dolls

Tiss a maddening state of affairs
Why my lovers don’t gas themselves to death
Have they not the decency to assist my endeavors?
Is my future to be written in stone of no importance to them?
The public would breath and eat the words
Of all my little suicide dolls
If only, if only they would find the ovens
Yeast you have failed me in these dire moments
Let me rise above it all
With poetic verse
Sing to all my tragedies
My death and re-birth
In the gas chambers of poetic verse

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015


Details | Suicide Poem | |

The Real Me

I'm not the person you think you see
'Cause I've got demons inside of me
I may have a smile on my lips
But I have cuts on my wrists and hips
You see I'm damaged, fractured, and broke
I'm surprised I still have hope
No one loves a broken girl
Especially not in this big bad world,
I'm too far gone and you can't save me now
So I will just keep falling down, down, down
Into the depths of my own demise
But it's nothing new, not a surprise,
These demons here hate me so
Sometimes I think I should just go
'Cause I welcome death with open arms
Death looks nice, it has so much charm,
Nobody here loves me anymore
And life is such a dastardly chore
They want me gone, I can tell so much
And someone told me to never trust
So now I know everyone lies
This is what many people need to realize,
But people will always trust
'Til that trust turns to dust
And take a shot in the dark
Until they are torn apart,
And now maybe you see 
Why I have demons haunting me
But if you do not
Then you don't know the battles I've fought
And don't judge me at all
Because I will just continue to fall

Copyright © Who Cares | Year Posted 2014


Details | Suicide Poem | |

For those who have considered suicide when who they are is not enough

For the days when your skin feels inadequate
And you want to escape from it
When you've scrutinized every fiber of your being & want to trade in your reflection
When you don't look right juxtaposed next to the picture of that model
They tell you your skin is too dark to be anything pretty 
And you're the guy in third block with the funny-looking glasses, the no-name brand clothes who loves to learn
Keeps to himself, never bothers anyone
But everyone bothers you
the girls don't pay attention to you except for a joke
And everybody cackles
jackals tear pieces out of you
For amusement
Fist strike, blood runs
Eyes are red like stop signs,
But can't slow down tears as they speed down your cheeks
For the lonely times
When you can't find friends
In the classroom, hall, or your home
The times when your body, walk, slang, & style don't fit in and they tell you to cut yourself down to match a space in their jigsaw
"Be like everyone else"
Finding yourself in a world full of Viceroys
Imitations of Monarchs
society calling you caterpillar because you have yet to metamorphous into these half-clones they have never eaten the scales of King Billy but poisoned their originality all the same
And they want you to do the same
Camouflage colors and blend in
Nobody likes an outsider, and everybody's scared to be one
Some are cowards. Afraid to be by themselves
They want to fit in and be secure with undercurrents of self-consciousness
And be appeasing
Looking to others to feel justified in what they do, how they look, who they are
They can't stand alone 
And for the times when you feel like an outcast
When you find disgrace looking in the mirror
And feel you deserve what they give you for simply being
Remember to be lion
Be a lion with no pride, but have pride all the same
Pride in yourself, how you were made
Be courageous, mighty, and strong
Even when you're walking by yourself
Strut with your head held high
Speak as boldly as a roar against the evening sky and proclaim your existence
Make everything feel your presence
Let them know that you can stand alone because you have no fear
Make everything in the room quake with fear & wonder at how you could be yourself so boldly and have no shame
Stalk the earth like you are entitled to it and refuse to hide
Hug yourself late at night when you have to
Fight when you need to
Let nobody drag you through the mud
Command respect
And love yourself enough not to accept anything less than what you really deserve
& you deserve so much better

Copyright © Alex Roberson | Year Posted 2015


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Struggle

I don't want to die,
But my mind feels old;
My body is so tired
And my heart grows cold;
Hands itch to slice--
Just the skin--just the skin,
Blood flows out as the pain seeps in.
They wanna give me pills
To treat a pain they haven't seen;
They try to cure the symptoms
Without knowing what it means,
To pick apart my brain
Without dirtying their hands,
While I drown in a sorrow
That I can't understand,
While unhelpful friends throw
Such unhelpful advice:
"Stop feeling sad!"
"Think of things that are nice!"
Meanwhile I wish
for an end to the pain. 
I don't need any pills--
Just send me a train.

Copyright © Tara Andre | Year Posted 2014


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Forever Blue

I am forever blue,
Just like the sky,
All the rain that falls on you,
Is how I feel when I cry.

I am deep blue like the sea,
Barely breathing beneath the waves,
How lonely can one be?,
There's nothing left here to save.

This feeling is not once in a blue moon,
It lasts all day and night,
It's as deep as a blue lagoon,
With no end in sight.

The frosty air is so cold,
On this blue December night,
Here is what my future holds,
And I know it isn't right.

My whole life has been so blue,
With so many turns like a river,
The water is so cold now, too,
It makes me really shiver.

My future is so blue,
And this is my only end,
I want to tell you, I love you,
Because you're my only friend.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013


Details | Suicide Poem | |

OK

There's no light in my eyes
faded for so long, i cannot see the hope
that was once there long ago.
as these tears fall, all i can do
is look around, i cannot
hear the sounds of your voice
coming through.

But i'll be OK
please don't try to follow me
it's not safe to go alone
there are things you shouldn't see.
i'll be OK
i know you must hate me
just give it some time
someday you will be fine
just know that i'm all right.

my soul grows cold like this tomb stone
the darkness always falls, pitch black
now i am all alone.
and as i fade, i guess i'll cease to be
nothing left inside i have died
so you could breathe.

But i'll be OK
please don't try to follow me
it's not safe to go alone
there are things you shouldn't see.
i'll be OK
i know you must hate me
just give it some time
someday you will be fine
just know that i'm all right.

in my dying breathe
the air rushing from my chest
i guess there's nothing left, no parting
shots no more time for arguments.
looks in your eyes, i know you'll
leave me now. our time has just
run out. our time is over now!

But i'll be OK
please don't try to follow me
it's not safe to go alone
there are things you shouldn't see.
i'll be OK
i know you must hate me
just give it some time
someday you will be fine
just know that i'm all right.
just know that i'm all right....

Copyright © Antonio Swider | Year Posted 2014


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Plastic Siblings

Genial to avoid confrontation
Baseborn kind, complaisant character
A spurious recital, a cheap imitation
Apocryphal mind, and comical creations
Counterfeited Christ
An unholy effusion
Sons of Belial
Clutch arcane knowledge
Esoteric information

Delve into oracular verse.
Deadened faith
Recondite belief denuded denials
Portentous and abstruse
Divested of the truth
Desolate road
Traveled day after day
Seriatim in miles
Strangled in hyperbole
Hypothetical noose

Cheaply loose
Tightening
methodically

Suicidal salvation
Covertly clandestine
Do what art wilt
Deliver the chosen
indoctrinate guilt
Derision to the destined
To learn love over hate
Adoration to inculcate
Imbue their sick lessons.

Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2014


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Where Were You

He looked at me with
begging eyes,

Hiding in his own world.

All knew his looks,
But none knew him.

No one realized
who he was.

Alone, desperate.

Then one day,
Everyone closed in on him

Their daggers pointing
At the only feeling he had:

Sorrow.

He let out a sob
One small sob that told them everything

They walked away.
But they never ceased to push and shove him

Dislocating his heart and putting sorrow to his words.

They never realized
What they were doing

Until it was too late.

He put a sword to his heart and said,
"I love you, mom and dad, but now it's time for me to go."

Stabbing his heart,
He cried.

He lay there, his cold and still body radiating sorrow

The others never glanced,
But I looked at him.

I carried him out,
Not understanding why others would do this.

When we held a funeral,
Some said he was kind and so I asked,

"Where were you when he needed you?"

Copyright © Oishi Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2013


Details | Suicide Poem | |

R-I-P -----ROBIN WILLIAMS




Spin off Happy Days Na-Nu Na-Nu Shaz-Bot man Planet Ork Mork fly!
© PoeTTreeZ Publishing

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Her Masterpiece Is Her Story-part two

(please read "Her Masterpiece Is Her Story" before reading the second part. It'll make more sense and probably be more enjoyable!)

The girl who has beautiful scars,
And the boy with marks of strength,
Are now separated by distance,
And that is causing some teenage angst.

The girl wonders how the boy is doing.
Her paintbrush calls her name.
The two can't talk right now,
And she feels she's to blame.

The girl's best friend is lonely,
And she isn't much better.
The only way honesty is revealed,
is through a heart felt letter.

Her scars are fading away,
Everyone knows her secret, so she can't add to the art.
She's wishing she could draw more cuts,
At night the voices in her mind take over her heart.

Her masterpiece is disappearing,
Her artwork is going away.
"What caused you to do this!??!" her family asks.
"I...I hate myself." is all she can say.

She's trying to be okay,
If not for herself then for her friends,
If there's one thing she can't take,
It's their fatal ends.

But she doesn't know how the boy is,
She doesn't know his feeling,
Her mind is going crazy, 
Her sanity is reeling.

Since she doesn't know how the boy is doing,
Her anxious mind is filled with worry,
Her demons have told her something.
They're telling her the worst horror story.

Her masterpiece is fading, 
I've told you this before.
Her scars are going away,
She wants to make more.

But she doesn't make any.
For the sake of those she loves.
She restrains from her paintbrush.
Even though it fits like a glove.

Her story is continuing, 
Her painting isn't dry.
But her canvas is even more,
down upon her thigh.

Maybe she'll erase some drawings.
She's trying to be okay. 
She actually doesn't want to get better.
But what am I supposed to say?

Be honest and say she doesn't want that?
Be truthful and say she doesn't care?
Because in her life right now,
Having no motivation? She wouldn't dare!

She misses the life she had before.
She didn't mind hiding her own part of her life.
She would just cope her own way.
She'd cope by using a knife.

Maybe one day she'll draw on an actual paper,
Or paint with an actual paintbrush,
But right now with her anxiety,
She feels that there is no rush.

Don't worry about the girl.
She just cries every night.
But she has to keep going,
Her best friend is in near sight.

It'll be alright everyone,
I'll keep you up to date,
The girl's painting will continue.
If that's the artist's fate. 

Copyright © Madison Marie | Year Posted 2013


Details | Suicide Poem | |

The Funny Side of Suicide

A friend of mine once inquired 
if I had suicide on my brain. 
"EVERY TIME I SEE YOU...
you chase away the rain." 

She looked a little puzzled 
but thanked me none the less, adding:
"Are you sure you're not contemplating 
the end of all your stress?"

"Why," said I, "should I decide
to end this life sublime
when all I want right here and now
is one more round of wine?"

"So cut the crap, go take a nap
or bring me red rose',
you're killing me with your questions
and all I want to do is play!"

Still she could not let it go
and asked me once again -
"Are you SURE you're not considering 
a permanent vacation, my friend?"

"Enough, enough of all this stuff
regarding grassy graves,
If you ask me one more time again
it's yours that will be made!"

And so she finally took the hint 
that I'm finer than a frogs hair cut - 
Never the less, I thanked her profusely
for caring so very much. 

* Inspired by a very special lady here in PSoup (who shall remain anonymous), recently  concerned about my state of mind.  I couldn't help but be impressed and touched by her genuine concern and felt compelled to reassure her that I'm "Finer than a frogs hair cut."  On a more serious note, REAL suicide is nothing to laugh about and if this poem offends anyone, I sincerely apologize and mean no disrespect to anyone touched by it's sad results.  All the best, Terry

Copyright © Terrell Martin | Year Posted 2013


Details | Suicide Poem | |

The very last cut

Do you see my wrists?
They cry blood when I do this;
Push the blade deeper.

Copyright © Rick Eichelberg | Year Posted 2014


Details | Suicide Poem | |

My Hell

I fall down
deeper and deeper
into oblivion
nothing
only darkness.
the sounds of evil
dripping into my ears
slithering farther
and sliding down into me
filling me with echoes.
terror courses through
my veins
into each cell
turning them against
me
they are no longer mine
they follow another
a stronger being.
icy breezes come
they whisper to me
they say I'm bad
they call me to them
the breezes dance
hug me
covering me
hiding me from the light
shielding me from hope.
falling deeper
only down
my eyes are taunted
I see people
the ones I know
love
they are hurt
hurting
by me
I have betrayed them
left them
I am hurting them
it is me
but I can't stop.
my mind is plagued
sick
new thoughts
 every second
comes a new terror
a cruel joke
all a prank.
only deeper do I fall
light is disappearing
becoming dimmer
fading fast.
all a game
for one person
the puppeteer
the ringmaster
the man in the
mask
the one who is running the show
the show that is me.
he sees me falling
he laughs
I can't see him
but he is there
everywhere
teasing my brain
taunting my senses
he hates me
he wants to hurt me.
he throws it
the knife
I feel the pain
running up my leg
showing my bones
releasing my blood
it is blue
my blood is cold
it splatters my face
sprinkling my features
dotting them with blue
the blue liquid drips
jumping onto my tongue
I taste dirt
my blood is dirt
blue is all I see
blue is all I become
I am blue
blue is me.
a distant shout
who is it?
a cry for help
surely
the sound is mangled
twisted
young
desperate
hopeless
mine
the sound is mine
I shut my mouth
but I still hear it
chilling my blue blood
ringing in my ears
shaking my breathing
jump-starting my heart
then it's over
the scream has ceased
and silence returns
sounding more deadly than ever before.
still falling
only black do I see
the evil
the monsters' playground
the demons' joyride
and someone is hungry
it wants me
my innocence
my purity
it wants to take it
it feeds on people
people like me.
weightlessness
objects hitting me
ghosts' fingers prodding me
as I fall
I fall down
down into this never-ending hole
this abyss
for eternity
restless
empty
yet full
filled with misery
my worst fears
come back
how did he know?
he knows I'm afraid
the darkness
doesn't help me see
I can't see why
how does he do this?
they cut me again
spilling my blood
oh, the blue
I don't even feel it
I am numb
the sound of me
my skin
being sliced
a quick slashing
and they are done
I am cut
my legs
my arms
my stomach
my face
my neck
I can't see my blood
but I can see how evil it must look.
the thoughts that fell
fell down with me
they too
are damned
they talk to me
they tell me what they see
they can see
blue
yes blue
my cold blood
it is everywhere
I am pale
white
I look sick they say
oh, no
they say
oh, no
they see the bottom
be ready
they say
be ready.
I fall faster still
slowing for nothing
for no one
being pulled down
the puppeteer has me
he's got my string
and he's pulling
with no sign of letting go.
now I hear a song
they all sing it
the notes are cruel
unforgiving
they bump into the others
struggling to be heard
with no set order
it is musical chaos
he yells to me
it is beautiful
and he sings along to his song
it's made for me
musical notes are played
they come up to me
they greet me
they jump
right into my cuts
surging into my blood
they search inside me
no mercy
moving faster
the drum
keeping them steady
pounds faster
picking up tempo
searching
searching
until
they found it
they found
my heart
my soul
the music does the talking
it says to hush
hush now
slow down
my heart listens
and I get sleepy
just stop
they say
just stop
the music is evil
played by the man
the man in the mask
my brains sends
a message
one final request
it says to my heart
speed up
it says
speed up, can't you see?
she is dying
it says
you must speed up!
I still fall
with no way up
letting go of hope
why dream?
dreaming of being saved
when I already know
I'll only be dropped.
I smell
something burnt
burning
oh, no
I know what
that smell
it is flesh
not mine
surely
but belongs to someone else
someone close
they too
they smell of dirt
sinners burning
dead
they are nothing to me
they are the stench
in my nose
nothing more
the smell overcomes all
all the other senses
until it becomes me
and I burn too.
even in the dark
the black
I see something
darker
blacker than black
they are shadows
they mock me
they play
they sing
they dance
they laugh
I fill with evil
hatred
a longing to hurt
hurt the ones behind it all
then
without warning
I hear him
laughing
my pain
is his pleasure
oh so dark
it's over
I'm at the bottom
laying on the cold ground
in a small ball
too weak to stand
in a pool
of dark blue blood
I hold myself tight
I can't trust
these creatures
these beasts.
he likes my weakness
he tells me I am small
I am ugly
I am worthless
I am nothing
he laughs when I cry
I thought that
maybe
just maybe
it would be better
down here
instead of up there.
it's not.
hell is not a game.
death is not an
easy way out.
do not try to visit me.
do not try to rescue me.
for I am more lost
than I hope you will
ever be.
now that I am
at my fate
at the entrance to hell
at the bottom of this grave
of my eternity
and if I am truly
here forever,
I'll have plenty of time
to ask myself
why did I jump?

Copyright © Allyssa Pate | Year Posted 2014


Details | Suicide Poem | |

Giggles of Demons

On the pathway to the flames of hell, I stand; 
in inky blackness of night, 
with giggles of demons sounding close at hand. 

I march to the beat of Satan's dastard band; 
submit without a fight. 
On the pathway to the flames of hell, I stand.

Running with the evil intent of command, 
black thoughts now shocking white, 
with giggles of demons sounding close at hand. 

Misery becomes too much to withstand; 
the balm of slumber bright. 
On the pathway to the flames of hell, I stand.

Decisions made in haste, cannot now remand. 
Heartbeats spill the blood contrite; 
with giggles of demons sounding close at hand. 

Craving only grief's respite, 
I turn towards the waiting light. 
On the pathway to the flames of hell, I stand; 
with giggles of demons sounding close at hand. 

Copyright © Darkland Poetry | Year Posted 2015


Details | Suicide Poem | |

A Grim Fairy Tale

I was born a girl
whose parent’s died.
Then given to others
whose social status was high.
Papa, the king, but died in war.
Mama, the queen, who didn’t marry more.
An eternal scowl upon her face
as she kept her daily pace.
Hair pinned high upon her head.
“Do this!” “Do that!” She constantly said
and when I’d do one thing wrong
she’d scold me, yelling “Cinderella!”, for hours long.
And once she was done with what she said
I’d get back to work again.
But one day I got fed up.
Ran up my tower and closed the door up.
My window, the only way out
but Mama barged in, stopping in mid-shout.
But I just turned back and smiled
and then I fell a thousand miles.
And I lay among the trees
my spirit, at last, forever free.

Copyright © Holly Laudenslager | Year Posted 2014