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  Oct 2015 Marcelo
Cheryl Mukherji
That night, I stared at the night sky,
Soaked up the stars
Enough to form constellations of my own
And named them after you.

That is the thing about stars,
The more you look
The more you find.
Scars, alike.

Though, I am a novice
In the realm of
Pain and suffering,
I have already understood
The difference between
Papercuts and broken hearts
Chaining souls and holding hands
Flying paper airplanes and shooting darts
Abandonment and negligence.

And for once,
I want to believe in afterlives,
Wishing on shooting stars that are
Confused with fireflies,
If only it was as simple as
The art behind tracing your lips,
Falling asleep to the rhythm of your breath,
Your glinting eyes floating in pools of bliss.

But, we are more than music.
A noise
That beats in our ears;
A scream
That burns our throats.
Of Shattered vintage vases,
Wrecked ships
And sinking boats.
  Jul 2015 Marcelo
Lila Valentine
When you hear about it, you just shake it off
Shake it off like it’s nothing
You know about it, then shrug and go on
But have you ever thought about how they felt
How they felt when they swallowed the pills
Overdosing
When they ate and gave it up again
Over and over
When they went through bottle after bottle
Slipping farther away
When they took the blade, and dragged it over their wrist
Slitting the veins
Have you never thought about what it is like
To pick up a blade, to drag it over your skin
Letting the sting register
Watching, with a sick fascination, as the beads
The beads of crimson blood drip down your arm
Mixing with the tears pouring
Pouring, as you know, you know you’re not good enough
When you realize that you don’t belong
When you realize that you shouldn’t be alive
And you slit the veins
Repeatedly, hoping for it to happen, wanting to leave
Knowing that no one will care
That no one will miss you
Then you come to the prison
The prison called school
Where all you feel is everyone staring at you
Still thinking that you’re just some ******
Some creep that doesn't belong
They don’t know how hurt you are inside
They don’t know how much their words have pierced you
They don’t know that you want them to notice
That you want them to care
You just tug at the sleeves of your sweater
Even though it’s a hot summer day
Just tell yourself that it must stay on
That they can’t know
But they must know
And they might ask you about it
Why you’re different
Why you’re changed
Antisocial
And you want to tell them
You want someone to care
But you lie through your teeth
You lie as you feel the pain start to come
And you know that the lies are the only way to make it out
To make it out without more taunts
And before you regret anything, you go
You go and blend with the crowd
Already wishing you had said something
Anything
Just to keep someone there
Hoping that maybe someone would come
That someone wouldn’t want you to go
But the day drags on
And you just get more side glances
Snickers behind your back
And you finally run home
And burst into the bathroom
Where they wait, shining
Whispering your name
And you know that someone
Someone needs you there
And, already feeling the rush of emotion
You throw off the sweater, the armband
And you pick up the little blade
So much malice
So much relief, in something so small
And just push it into the soft flesh on your arm
Then drag it slowly
Letting yourself feel it
Make it be a punishment
For not being enough
For being a failure
For not being wanted
And you think back, back to the start of the day
When you just wanted to ask a simple question
When they told you to shut up
When they told you they didn’t care
When they told you to jump off a bridge
To just end your life
And as you sit there, hair falling over your face
You just see the earlier scars
Some thin and white
Some thicker, like little knots in your skin
And you go over them, over and over
Until your arm is covered in blood
And you just watch it
Letting it smear
Get on your shirt
Your shorts
And with every slice
You tell yourself not to be such a coward
To just face it
To do it
Because this is the relief
This is what you wait for all day
This is all that goes through your mind all day
Every day
The relief, once you’re alone
When you can hurt yourself, as much as you can
Because you hate yourself so much
Because you just want to leave
And it’s a relief, it really is
No one will understand
When you were younger
And you read about it
You heard about it
You thought how hard it must be
To hurt yourself knowingly, on purpose
But once you start
You can’t stop
Because it’s an addiction
And you can’t break free of its iron grip
And nothing anyone ever says will change it
We all say things we might not mean
We tell people that they are losers
That they are useless
That they should die
But there are people, sensitive, that will take it
The wrong way
Or maybe the right way
You don’t know their power
Their kindness
Until you experience it yourself
As you sit shaking, shuddering, wanting it to end
And they stay with you
Keeping you under control
Changing your mind
Saving a life
Just remember that everyone is hiding something
Whether it be a dark past
Or the loss of someone to suicide
Or the saving of a life
Or the want to slit yourself over and over
Everyone hides something
And in this room
There are doubtlessly several dark secrets
We all say it
We regret it
Or we don’t
I say it so many times
I regret it so many times
I don’t mean it
And you may have noticed
Or maybe you haven’t
Maybe you have and just didn’t bother saying anything
But I hide something
And I’m tired of lies
I’m tired of not having the truth out
I’m tired of having to hide it from everyone
Even my own family
Even the ones that I am supposed to trust the most
I can’t trust them
I can’t trust anyone
I’m too scared
But I’m tired of cowardice
I’m going to break soon
And keeping it in is too much strain
I can’t keep living like this
Maybe I’ll just let the world know
Or maybe it will never know
But some day….I’ll break
And maybe someone will come
And someone will regret something they said
But it’ll be too late
So just think about it
Suicide isn’t funny
Suicide isn’t a joke
Suicide isn’t romantic
Suicide isn’t attention seeking
Suicide isn’t something you just read on the news
It’s something that should be taken seriously
Suicide is real.
This I also wrote last year, for school. I shared it with my whole class. Seriously, don't be as rude as one person was.
Marcelo Jul 2015
I Robot
You Robot
Me....
Robot

We never had a sense of empathy programmed into us. Yet we wonder why people consider us so dangerous.
Taught the difference between right and wrong by society.
Given a choice of what we could be but it was never a variety.
If you ever disapproved your microchip is removed and replaced with something they like to call new and improved.
But luckily there is no machine that will never malfunction.
We understood this and it led us to our distruction.
Yes at that moment we were blessed.
We understood we had the power to be depressed.

I Robot
You Robot
Me...
Robot

We learnt that we can pop the pills a little faster.
Tie the ropes a little thighter.
If you stop taunting us you can hear my wrists whispering slit us.
Go across the street and get hit by a bus.
I will not have to leave a suicide note.
All they need as proof are the poems that I wrote.

I Robot
You Robot
No more...
Robot

— The End —