2nd Annual Poems About Suicide Month

[milo]

Death by Flashcard


I was like a white shirt
 
that got covered in mud.
 
No matter how I scrubbed,
 
the stain would only spread.
 
I went to darker places
 
to try to feel
comfortable--
 
to blend in.
 
Everyone there still saw 
the mud.
 
I would never be clean
on the outside.
 
So,
 
I drank bleach.

wait - 

am I supposed to laugh at this?

It feels kind of *wrong*