Sure, I say I have friends
3 girls, a few boys
All very friendly
And they’re nice to have
But truly, they’re not my real friends
My real ones are the ones who only open they’re mouths when I’m in desperate need.
They usually stay safely in a drawer, covered in a cloth.
They have been with me every day, in my time of need.
They open their mouth, and slide their razor sharp “teeth” against my skin, and I let them.
I control them.
I want this.
They make me feel like I’m real.
They close their mouths when I tell them to, I wish people in real life would do that.
They always keep their flabby mouths open.
Spewing more and more shit that makes me realize.
My true friends are the ones I keep in my drawer.
My true friends are the ones I keep hidden, so no one else can steal them from me.
I’ll never lose them, and I always know where they are.
Even better than that.
I know they’ll always be there for me, in my time of need.
With their glistening glory.
And handle, connected to my need grip.
We’ll be friends forever.
Up until my end.
~My Closest Friends, by Jeffery Keehl
“I ended up grabbing a blade and slitting my wrists, and I cried because I knew that is a bad thing to do, so I washed my arms and wrote this to try to make me feel better….
Cutting isn’t the way to go.
Suicide is never the answer….”