Saving Myself

I am in a locked room,
wearing a white straight jacket.
I am here because I tried to kill myself.
I cut myself all over, but I still did not die.

I do not know how to unlock the door.
I am not sure how to get this straight jacket off.
I am still deciding if I want to live.
I still have the urge to cut myself.

Maybe hope will unlock the door.
Maybe if I stop screaming, someone will take this jacket off me.
Maybe living is not a bad thing.
Maybe I would look better if I did not cut myself.

The only thing I can think of now is saving myself.


Note: I was never in a straight jacket literally, but I did spend six days in a mental hospital before a neurologist diagnoised me with a brain disorder that affects the left side of my brain that caused me to also be bipolar.