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His name was Eric

He kept his pain within,
he cut himself as away to
escape from the everyday crap
called life.
He thought he wasn't wanted by
his family, or anyone who knew him
but he was wrong.
He wrote his letter,
it was a page long.
But that wasnt long enough to ease
the pain or answer all our questions.
He had to escape.
He killed himself that night.
He had just turned 18.
I visit his grave everyday.
I cry at the thought of his
empty eyes.
Why couldn't we see it coming.
He will always be missed.
And he was always loved.
His name was Eric &
he was my boyfriend.

~~~This poem is fictional~~~
To all who have lost a loved one to suicide
~~~~~~~~~~~I AM SORRY~~~~~~~~~~~

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