A poem about: I need a poem about how while putting dishes away and i picked up a butcher knife and for a split second thought about texting my mom and telling her she needs to pick up sara from school cause I wont be able to. How the pain of the knife dragging across my skin could silence the voices in my head. How it could end my pain. How my blood would look coming out of my body and pooling around me. How no one would know how to get to me or that it even happened till it was too late.

In the quiet clink of porcelain, I reach for blade with silent dread, A butcher's knife that gleams, a friend To hush the chaos in my head. For just a moment, visions spin: A message that may never send, To tell my mother, "Come for her, For I won't be there in the end." The thought of crimson rivers flows, A whispered promise in its wake, To drown out all the voices' woe, A final peace I long to take. Yet here, unspoken shadows loom, In solitude, undrawn, unknown— Until my world and pain resume, And truth appears: I'm not alone.

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