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Sand
I'm so sick of this life. I try and try again and again to end it, but I always wake up from my endless dream.
I slash my arm, yet no blood comes out. Instead it's sand, that proves the dryness of my heart.
I cry rivers to drown my fears, but no tears will flow. Instead more sand, to show my fears will never die, just hide.
I strangle myself to cut off the nightmares, though they still play. Instead sand fills my throat as if to say "it's your fault."
I take so many pills to take away my pain, but it doesn't go away. Instead the sand fills my stomach and my chest and takes away my breath.
-T.D
