fnshfq - Hello Poetry

throbbing veins visible on my temples a numbingly strong feeling of compressed pressure its volatility stretching from the arches of my eyebrows, peaking to the bridge of my nose my throat is locked, jaw tight this feeling, though unwelcome, has seen itself through my doors so regularly and ever more so often these days, it seems 4 minutes was all it took this time what will the magic number be next?

0

Jan 26, 2020

Jan 26, 2020 at 10:46 AM UTC

4

throbbing veins visible on my temples a numbingly strong feeling of compressed pressure its volatility stretching from the arches of my eyebrows, peaking to the bridge of my nose my throat is locked, jaw tight this feeling, though unwelcome, has seen itself through my doors so regularly and ever more so often these days, it seems 4 minutes was all it took this time what will the magic number be next?

8

if you read this, it means you have finally pushed me off the edge. i will not sit here and take the verbal abuse you haul at me each time you blow up. a mother would not sit there and yell at her daughter about how fat she is, she would not buy her a weighing scale and tell her it serves to remind her of how much she needs to lose. she will not give her toxic opinion about how the clothes she wears are made for girls much, much slimmer than she is. a mother would not look at her daughter in the eye and watch her words cut holes in her kin's chest, and not falter at the tears she sheds. a mother would not raise her child alongside whitening creams, and tell her she can only be pretty if she uses them. a mother would not laugh along to snide remarks about how her daughter is bigger than her, and probably wears a larger size. you, mother, have been the stem to every insecurity and self-esteem issue i have developed, faced and struggled with. you are the reason i cry myself to sleep at night, feeling uglier than i actually am. you are the reason i always look when i see a mirror, checking my appearance for anything out of place. you, mother, are the reason why at the tender age of 13, i spent my nights with my fingers down my throat, forcing out the contents of my stomach, just so i could appease your definition of beauty. it is why i change my order choices at restaurants whenever you side-eye me for ordering something indulgent, and why my heart sinks everytime you chastise me for having a candy wrapper in my room. it is why i was underweight in primary and secondary school, and why i was so physically and mentally weak. it was a big reason why i fell into depression and why i don't think i will ever love myself truly. at night i wonder why you have chosen to be so toxic to me, instead of encouraging me to love myself and teaching me that beauty is not skin-deep. i wonder why i had to go through so many years of pain and self-loathing. i think about all the sleepless nights i've had, just obsessing over my worth, and in turn leading me to harm myself, which has now turned into a tragic stretch of skin lined with white scars from 7 years of coping. i think you know about that though, for you have seen them and you are aware of the blades i keep within reach of my bed. your words have shaped me to be the broken shadow of a person i am, spineless and without a sense of worth, ready to be stepped on by anyone i encounter. mother, i will never be enough. i will never be pretty enough, thin enough, or even smart enough. mother, i am sorry for not being the daughter you have always wanted. and i am sorry that you are not the mother i would have wished for.

0

Aug 5, 2018

Aug 5, 2018 at 1:50 AM UTC

an open letter to my mother.

if you read this, it means you have finally pushed me off the edge. i will not sit here and take the verbal abuse you haul at me each time you blow up. a mother would not sit there and yell at her daughter about how fat she is, she would not buy her a weighing scale and tell her it serves to remind her of how much she needs to lose. she will not give her toxic opinion about how the clothes she wears are made for girls much, much slimmer than she is. a mother would not look at her daughter in the eye and watch her words cut holes in her kin's chest, and not falter at the tears she sheds. a mother would not raise her child alongside whitening creams, and tell her she can only be pretty if she uses them. a mother would not laugh along to snide remarks about how her daughter is bigger than her, and probably wears a larger size. you, mother, have been the stem to every insecurity and self-esteem issue i have developed, faced and struggled with. you are the reason i cry myself to sleep at night, feeling uglier than i actually am. you are the reason i always look when i see a mirror, checking my appearance for anything out of place. you, mother, are the reason why at the tender age of 13, i spent my nights with my fingers down my throat, forcing out the contents of my stomach, just so i could appease your definition of beauty. it is why i change my order choices at restaurants whenever you side-eye me for ordering something indulgent, and why my heart sinks everytime you chastise me for having a candy wrapper in my room. it is why i was underweight in primary and secondary school, and why i was so physically and mentally weak. it was a big reason why i fell into depression and why i don't think i will ever love myself truly. at night i wonder why you have chosen to be so toxic to me, instead of encouraging me to love myself and teaching me that beauty is not skin-deep. i wonder why i had to go through so many years of pain and self-loathing. i think about all the sleepless nights i've had, just obsessing over my worth, and in turn leading me to harm myself, which has now turned into a tragic stretch of skin lined with white scars from 7 years of coping. i think you know about that though, for you have seen them and you are aware of the blades i keep within reach of my bed. your words have shaped me to be the broken shadow of a person i am, spineless and without a sense of worth, ready to be stepped on by anyone i encounter. mother, i will never be enough. i will never be pretty enough, thin enough, or even smart enough. mother, i am sorry for not being the daughter you have always wanted. and i am sorry that you are not the mother i would have wished for.

21

it starts off right in the core of my heart it spreads numbingly quick i start to lose my senses vision blurry fingertips numb ears quiet and mind empty my awareness is reduced to not solitude, but rather isolation. my body loses warmth my heartbeat slows down i start shivering and then the pain starts from feeling nothing to absolutely everything the pain washes over every inch of my skin and i feel it sting my eyes my tears escape and i start to shake my hands my body my soul everything is crashing around me but i dont make a sound i lay here quiet i lay here broken i lay here lonely.

0

Jun 9, 2018

Jun 9, 2018 at 5:27 AM UTC

loneliness

it starts off right in the core of my heart it spreads numbingly quick i start to lose my senses vision blurry fingertips numb ears quiet and mind empty my awareness is reduced to not solitude, but rather isolation. my body loses warmth my heartbeat slows down i start shivering and then the pain starts from feeling nothing to absolutely everything the pain washes over every inch of my skin and i feel it sting my eyes my tears escape and i start to shake my hands my body my soul everything is crashing around me but i dont make a sound i lay here quiet i lay here broken i lay here lonely.

33

hush, little one don't say a word you can't be loud or else you'll be found quiet, little one he'll hear you now just stay mum keep holding your tongue thats a good girl, now don't make a sound if you don't speak what you say won't count breathe, little girl don't be afraid just keep your wall up don't make any mistakes its going to be okay.

0

May 29, 2018

May 29, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC

the quiet

hush, little one don't say a word you can't be loud or else you'll be found quiet, little one he'll hear you now just stay mum keep holding your tongue thats a good girl, now don't make a sound if you don't speak what you say won't count breathe, little girl don't be afraid just keep your wall up don't make any mistakes its going to be okay.

17

completely shattered the waves continue to crash down i lift my head up but air never comes my lungs are burning my body, weak and shivering i try to speak but all that exits are screams i gag my mouth i pull my hair i scratch my skin anything to make the pain stop your words, they linger although i knew they were all in rage they don't go away "i ******* hate you" they circle in my head becoming bigger with every orbit so big till they drown me swallow me whole i become them im just a fragment of who i used to be ive become what youve told me i am and with every fight i lose a little bit of myself even more will i disappear?

0

May 29, 2018

May 29, 2018 at 6:24 AM UTC

after every fight

completely shattered the waves continue to crash down i lift my head up but air never comes my lungs are burning my body, weak and shivering i try to speak but all that exits are screams i gag my mouth i pull my hair i scratch my skin anything to make the pain stop your words, they linger although i knew they were all in rage they don't go away "i ******* hate you" they circle in my head becoming bigger with every orbit so big till they drown me swallow me whole i become them im just a fragment of who i used to be ive become what youve told me i am and with every fight i lose a little bit of myself even more will i disappear?

26

"just undress here, and put on this gown" i stripped myself bare soul on display i put on the flimsy blue material my back peeking through the slits im led to a bed and suddenly im being pushed away away from my mother away from everyone they didnt even let me kiss her goodbye im wheeled through metal doors everything reeks of bleach the type of squeaky clean that burns your nose we stop a pass is fumbled with "surgical hall: authorised personnel only" the light goes green "access granted" the doors hit my bed with a bang as i am pushed through them blinded by the bright lights 4 of them, surrounding a table a 'bed' but really just a thin mattress propped onto a high metal table there are people in green robes with masks covering all but their eyes they stand, waiting im laid down and suddenly i feel a strap across my legs across my torso "its just so you don't move around during the surgery" i nod, silent my heart in my mouth my hand is grabbed and i see a needle "this will hurt okay?, i close my eyes as they try to locate my vein nope, again i **** a breath in as i feel metal in skin an iv drip hooked to a clear drug my dressing gown is fondled with my chest bare i feel the cold tip of a marker a hand tracing x marks the spot, right? my head feels light and i feel fear in my bones i think of your face i think of you, red suddenly there is someone above me "breathe in deep" a mask is lowered onto my face in slo-mo it seems; probably just my mind playing tricks on me i breathe in at first everything is fine then it starts to burn the air flow changes anaesthetia it burns my nose i don't want to breathe it hurts but i must i think of you and i inhale i feel a tear escaping either sides of my eyes i see a nurse notice and i hear her voice, fading "its okay" my vision goes black

0

Mar 16, 2018

Mar 16, 2018 at 6:59 AM UTC

my surgery

"just undress here, and put on this gown" i stripped myself bare soul on display i put on the flimsy blue material my back peeking through the slits im led to a bed and suddenly im being pushed away away from my mother away from everyone they didnt even let me kiss her goodbye im wheeled through metal doors everything reeks of bleach the type of squeaky clean that burns your nose we stop a pass is fumbled with "surgical hall: authorised personnel only" the light goes green "access granted" the doors hit my bed with a bang as i am pushed through them blinded by the bright lights 4 of them, surrounding a table a 'bed' but really just a thin mattress propped onto a high metal table there are people in green robes with masks covering all but their eyes they stand, waiting im laid down and suddenly i feel a strap across my legs across my torso "its just so you don't move around during the surgery" i nod, silent my heart in my mouth my hand is grabbed and i see a needle "this will hurt okay?, i close my eyes as they try to locate my vein nope, again i **** a breath in as i feel metal in skin an iv drip hooked to a clear drug my dressing gown is fondled with my chest bare i feel the cold tip of a marker a hand tracing x marks the spot, right? my head feels light and i feel fear in my bones i think of your face i think of you, red suddenly there is someone above me "breathe in deep" a mask is lowered onto my face in slo-mo it seems; probably just my mind playing tricks on me i breathe in at first everything is fine then it starts to burn the air flow changes anaesthetia it burns my nose i don't want to breathe it hurts but i must i think of you and i inhale i feel a tear escaping either sides of my eyes i see a nurse notice and i hear her voice, fading "its okay" my vision goes black

73

it hurt too much to bear i feel for a blade hidden in a trusted place i felt it on my wrist cold and sharp thirsty i feel my tongue under my fingertips as i went deeper purging i felt both my hands knuckles deep in my hair pulling then i felt nothing nothing but a stinging wrist a burning throat and a sore scalp but at least my soul was numb for now.

0

Jan 4, 2018

Jan 4, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC

numb

it hurt too much to bear i feel for a blade hidden in a trusted place i felt it on my wrist cold and sharp thirsty i feel my tongue under my fingertips as i went deeper purging i felt both my hands knuckles deep in my hair pulling then i felt nothing nothing but a stinging wrist a burning throat and a sore scalp but at least my soul was numb for now.

18