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9.0k · Oct 2015
The Morning After
Aarya Oct 2015
The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.
I splashed myself with cold water, and walked over to my dollhouse kitchen to make a cup of hot green tea in my favorite green ceramic mug. I cut myself avocados, laid them across my toast, and sprinkled it with pepper. My brother was still asleep, his covers crumpled under half his body and a leg hanging off the edge. He was dreaming of his favorite thing about the previous day, and that made me smile, as I tucked him back under the protection of his blanket.

The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love.
Not once, but many times. Not with one person, but with multiple. I fell in love with my mom and the way she looked like the happiest woman in the world when she laughed at us, and how from sitting behind her in the car it looked as if she was always smiling because her cheekbones were so high. I fell in love with the way she wiped her eyes with the top of her wrist, as the steam and aroma from the hot food she cooked, floated upwards. I fell in love with my dad and the way he walked through the backyard, moving his hands around as he played out important discussions in his head. I fell in love with my brother and the way he tried to talk to us about CNN news at over the dinner table every night. I fell in love with the way he would impatiently say my name as his eyes lit up, wanting to tell me something that excited him, or that he found funny. I fell in love with a little girl I caught dancing with her sister outside 85, on the way back from my math class. I fell in love with the curly-haired boy in my English class my freshman year, who sheepishly told me he switched back and forth from British and American accents from time to time, because it was just something that was a part of him. I fell in love with my best friend and the way she got so passionate about the importance of history and what she learned from her AP history class, over a Skype call after midnight. I fell in love with everyone I ever met, and saw them as entire galaxies, complex and burning bright yet simple at the same time. Because people are beautiful. People are beautiful.

The morning after I killed myself, I recognized kindness.
I recognized it when there were more than one million words in the English language to choose from, but every time, my neighbors chose the kindest ones. I recognized it in the mother I saw sitting outside the café on a bench, running her elegant fingers through her teenage daughter’s hair, who was telling her about her worries. I recognized it when a homeless lady gave another homeless man all the money she had made that day, simply because he had a daughter to feed. I found kindness in my friend when she ran to the Starbucks across the street to comfort a woman she did not know who was crying after her autistic son had a tantrum.

The morning after I killed myself, I took a walk.
I sauntered along the street, and I saw the bright green leaves of the sugar gum trees, that in a few months would turn gold and orange. The birds were chirping their warbling melodies, and the cool air was feeding my lungs. The sun was still rising, and the sky had a little bit of orange in one corner, and a little bit of pink in another. I sat down on the bleachers of my school, and waited for the sunrise to unfold.

The morning after I killed myself, I held my beautiful grandma’s hands.
I felt how small and cold they were, but what warmth they still preserved as her fingers tightly held mine. My fingers grazed the top of fists, the bumpy veins giving them a delicate texture. I saw the four golden bangles she had never taken off of her left wrist, and I wondered how many dishes those hands had washed, how many clothes they had folded, and how many meals they had made.

The morning after I killed myself, I watched a live symphony.
I sat dazed, in view of the wine-red instruments in front of me, from the contented mold of my chair. I listened to the beautiful wavelengths of sound being produced right in front of me, the music creating my sanctuary. The conductor created the loudest expression of music on stage, despite making no sound. His arms waved as wildly as the sea, but was no less graceful than an ebbing tide. I looked at the depth of the basses, the elegance of the cellos, the poise of the violins, and the dignity of the viola. The fingers of the cellists slid up and down, the strings undulating with every phrase. A pulse was beating within my own veins, and as long the piece lasted, I was the music.

The morning after I killed myself, I looked in the mirror.
I saw my almond-shaped eyes, and how my eyelashes outlined them perfectly. I saw the vertebrae of my spine, and how they looked like a line of marbles, across my back. I saw the curls on the top of my head that I’d hated when I was younger, because they stuck out as if I had my own atmosphere around my head. I saw my knuckles, and how they separated into mountains and valleys. I saw the beauty mark on my left ankle, and the dimple that formed when I smiled. I looked in the mirror, and I finally fell in love with what I saw.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to get back.
I tried to talk sense into a girl who had made a horrible mistake. I told her about the avocados, and the valleys and mountains that appeared every time she crumpled her fists. I told her about how beautiful her mom was when she laughed, and how warm it felt to hold her grandma’s hands. I told her about how her brother said he always dreamt about his favorite thing about the previous day, and how her friends had so much kindness in them. I told her about the green leaves scattered over the ground, and the pink parts of sunsets. I told her about the orchestra where she would find peace, and the shy boy who switched accents.

May your tea be just the right temperature when you take a sip, and may you happen to glance through the window just when the rays of light are falling perfectly. May you lock eyes with someone just as they send you a warm smile, and may you turn on the radio just as your favorite song starts. May you love the ink pen you pick up, as it glides across paper smoothly, and may you pick up a novel to read that changes your thoughts on something important.
Inspired by Meggie Royer's "The Morning After I Killed Myself"
7.7k · Jan 2014
Math test (1/16/14)
Aarya Jan 2014
It's lunch time
And I'm in my math teachers' room
Writing godawful poetry
When I have a math test next period.
Our health class
Just watched a video about cyber-bullying
And the girl forgives her lying backstabbing ***** of a friend
I just called my friend
Who is absent
I called her twice
And she hung up twice
          Sixteen seconds
          Eleven seconds

I'm sitting in the library now
On a circular table
          Table for four.
I am one
But I always sit on a table with empty seats
So that I always know I am alone
This red ink looks darker in this lighting
A much more appealing shade
In comparison to how it looks in my bedroom

I'm thinking that I all I should be doing for the next few years of my life
Is math and music
          More of both

I'm really scared one of my friends will come and sit next to me  
I'm pretending the monsters from Six Skies are there
This might be unhealthy

Some ***** Megan just sat here
           She's not really a *****
But can't she see that my monster friend is angry
Because she just took his ******* seat

Whenever I'm in math class
I always feel like writing poetry
When I am writing poetry
I don't want to do anything else
Math class is over in five minutes
I think I did okay on my test
But Spanish is next
And I know I won't be doing okay there

My stomach feels as if
The acids that are supposed to be breaking down my food
          There is none shh
Are killing the lining of my stomach tissue
I have a self-destructing *****.

Once upon a time
This used to be a math notebook
That's all I ever write about in here

This is satisfying
My monster friends from Six Skies
           aren't here
           I really wish they were.

I'm sitting encased in a red velvet colored blanket
It's actually my brothers
This is his third blanket
He got it for Christmas
Its his for a while, and then I take it
          even though I already have one of my own
So I guess he'll be getting a new one soon

The monsters from Six Skies
           are here
           watching me
           protecting me
I quite like their company
I don't want them to leave
           even at school
It's not a metaphor
But then again some days I look at myself in the mirror from several different angles of view
More satisfying than I'd imagined.

I forgive everyone for everything
             and I don't angry
Before it was anger and unforgiveness
Slowly I realized feelings like these
            were just too unnecessary for me
I think I do too many unnecessary things things like that
And I want to cut all of it up
I like basic
But I also like intricate

I have been writing poetry
           for three years.
           since I was in the sixth grade
They all used to rhyme
And my parents would be proud
Because I was proud
           as I grinned while I read them to them
And they were proud because it was about things
            like sunshine
I wonder if they would be proud now
Because I never even show them
And the only time I write about sunshine
            Is when something else is eating it away.
Aarya Oct 2015
I just feel so limited
It's 11 pm and I want to go for a drive
But my parents just won't take me
I want to go for a drive at 11pm
In my france france france sweatshirt, hair loose and all
and I want to stick my head out of the window
And I want to feel the cold air pass me by and go through my bones
And I want my hair to fly in the **** wind
and I want to listen to mainstream music and some feel good music
And I want the sky to be pitch black, with stars
And I want to pass trees and solely trees and smell the leaves and the pine cones
and I want to see the city from down below, as the street lights light up the town in golden arrays
And pass a restaurant with some music
Maybe even some random people loitering in a corner of a smoke shop with purple lights and cigarette smoke crowding everywhere
And I want to just look at them
And think about them
And what they did to get there
And I want to see a couple holding their hands and walking down the street
Even though its 11 pm
And I hope they're just happy
And I want to hold my dads big warm hand while I do all of these things
Because I got shotgun
And I want my brother to sit quietly in the back, and my dad to hum some Indian song
While I do all of these things
And I want to go to an aquarium and stare at jellyfish
Lavender jellyfish
and bright electric blue jellyfish
And pink and orange jellyfish
And I want to smell the AIR
And I want more of me to grow than the part in my brain that controls calculus and SAT
I want to grow physically and mentally and spiritually
There's a whole world out there
A whole WORLD!
And I'm in my room
My mother is in the kitchen thinking I'm doing SAT, and my dad is working and stressing over his job, and my brother is in his room writing his first interactive program
and I'm in my room, knowing i'm supposed to be doing SAT, but all I can think about is
how there's a whole messy majestic gigantic WORLD out there
And I am sitting here doing calculus and SAT
And it seems like its all for nothing
For only myself
And I know I'm not necessarily supposed to be this altruistic human being
I'm supposed to want things for myself
I'm supposed to be selfish in how I study and where I put my time but thats just not enough for me
I want to spend all day planting poppies and sunflowers
And in the night I just want to stare into infinity at the sky
And I want to cut my hair shoulder length, dye the bottom blue, get another piercing, decorate my hands with  henna, and walk around in vintage crop tops and flowy pants and matte black michael kors sandals
And I want to stop watching TV and going on facebook and having superficial banter and disgusting small talk
And I want to do yoga for the right reasons
Because yoga is the journey of the self, through the self, to the self, and I don’t want to do it solely because I want nice arms or a bendy back or a nice **** I mean even though its okay to want those things but I just want more
I want everything to be just raw and I want people to expose themselves and I want to expose myself and I want
my parents to just LISTEN to what I want
And recognize the fact that this is the third night in the row that their daughter has outwardly displayed to them that
there's chaos in her mind because she just can't handle
doing and being absolutely nothing
And I want to read about human rights and global warming and how
when a chef is cooking for a ton of people, he uses utensils to remind himself what to do next
and I want to read about forensics and how mass spectrography and chromatography help detect if someone is poisoned or not
And I really don't want to do SAT
Not because its hard or boring, or even because it seems useless but because
it just seems so *******
useless and irrelevant
And I want to stop living the life I want to live on a **** website
Because its opened my mind so much but I want to SEE sunflowers instead of
looking at pictures of them and I want to SEE
elephants and kittens instead of just
looking at them and I want to
feel a connection with a human being rather than just imagining what it would be like and I don't mean romantic relationships, no
But I just want to stop being so ignorant
And I want to know everything
And really all I want to go is forget that
I have to study tomorrow
I just want to go on a car ride
And stick my head out of the window, like a dog
Because I am happy, like a dog
Just why am I LIMITING myself?
For what???
I want to talk to people
I want them to teach me something
Because people are nature Tamille
Some people are delicate flowers
Some people are raging thunderstorms
Some people are disarrayed forests
Some will leave me breathless, some will knock me down
And some will be gardens and some will be SUNSETS and
I want them all to teach me something
And I want to speak my mind and look HIM whoever he may be
In the eye and and I want to stop being so small
And I may be insignificant but I'm an infinity
Because all galaxies are infinite
I read that there are as many atoms in a single molecule of DNA as there are stars in a typical galaxy
each of us are our own UNIVERSE
And thats why we burn too brightly sometimes and thats why we
collide sometimes and thats why we
collapse inwards sometimes and thats why we explode sometimes and start anew
And I want my soul to project outwards
I want whatever of me that is trapped in my bones to just
spill out
And I want someone to feel all the love and happiness I have in me from
across the room
And I want to stop being so closed up and insecure and timid
I think you're a towering mountain Tamille
Or thunder
I wouldn't say you're lightning
But I'd say my mom is a delicate flower and my dad is a powerful river and my brother is a colorful sky and I want to be
a forest
I just want to stick my head out of a car window, like a happy dog
Because I am happy
I don't want to be young and scared even though I know its okay to be scared
But I want to stop swallowing my words and stop being so paralyzed
Because I can do whatever I want
I must set fire to my old self
I must start anew.
Why am I so scared for WHAT
For what
Okay so what do I do now
I think saying all that was a good start
Here's whats not going to happen
I'm not going to wake up late tomorrow
or not too late
And I'll go for a walk
To the pecks
And I'll play with the chickens
And I'll read with the chickens
I'm just burning right now
And now it seems silly to sleep
Tamille, when I come to LA for winter break
We will go out on drives at 11pm, even 2 am
For the sake of living
And we will walk alongside the beach at preposterous hours of the day
Simply for the sake of living
And we won't be phonies
Because thats silly
And we must try not to be phonies
Just for the sake of living
But of course I can't just be this spontaneous extemporaneous person online
I need to be like that Offline
more than anything because I just
need to talk to people more
And I need to see the jellyfish and I watch them with their tentacles floating upwards and downwards and just there in what is to them, an abyss
Maybe we're like
jellyfish in an abyss
Like how humans just watch jellyfish in containers
Maybe we're the jellyfish
I need to be a good memory to people
Because we remember more than we think we do
So I must try my best to be a positive remembrance
I can teach  someone something
I can teach a random stranger something
I can teach my mom something
I can teach my 85 year old neighbor something
I can teach you something
It feels wrong to say all that and then go to bed
So I think I'll just walk outside and stare into infinity once more
And then ask my dad if we can go on a car ride one more time
And then I'll come back in my room and read about global warming
Or maybe I'll read about global warming outside
Because a child educated only at school, is an uneducated child
And I hope you read all this because out of everyone I chose you to tell it to you
And i hope your response isn't just "go do all that then"
I hope you read all the many messages
And now I will log off of facebook
I hope you also wake up in the morning and make it a great day
Not "hope you have a good day"
But rather
Make it a great day
this is long
5.4k · Jan 2014
For Ellen:
Aarya Jan 2014
If I could,
I would pick up my ink pen
and drown an ocean into you
instead of drowning you in it.
Extract these rotting feelings
for the sake of your ignorance.
Carve scriptures into each delicacy of your brain
so you wouldn’t have to dwell in such misery every day.
Wire faith
to your blemished heart.  
Imbue purity
to your sullied soul.
If I could,
I would write you through all depths of insanity
without any harm
so that your
mind no longer persists the thought of death.
There was a time I thought you were dead.
Only you were painted red
in a black and white world.
Like you have been walking barefoot on a broken road
your whole life.
Your demons imitate life
And life imitates the demons.
You are the one being tied down by invisible, nonexistent chains.
So unaccepting of help that has come for you
the sun touch the horizon
reach the meeting of sun and ground
Find further still,
The limits you would like to reach only run from you.
You have such a murderous tongue
for society  
But one day I hope to see you write yourself into existence
Rather than to let yourself drown in it.
Why has you dying become something so habitual?
Darling, death is not a friend of yours
Nor are you a friend of his.
But I know of your frequent dates with death
Tell me
Does his neck feel like happiness
And do his lips relieve you of your suffocation
are you lost?
or are you found?
Do you recognize the irony  
Of the most terrifying things happening in the most angelic places
Charm yourself upon that bridge
Whose lights light up the city in golden arrays
With a glazed look
you’d think.
In sadness seen go by
You are charmed by either war or hope.
These occurred robberies have taken much
But they left opportunity
Important people
And a moon in your window
A future that only you know the ending of  
And a slice of the midnight sky.
So it goes.
Aarya Feb 2014
I really wish
Someone would tell me
how to feel right now
1.6k · Feb 2014
Aarya Feb 2014
I am flesh and bone
No blood in between
I am a blade of grass
So delicate and green
I am indescribable
As the water
I am the sun
Every minute, burning hotter
I am as dead as stone
Gray and lame
I am so alive
Rich red blood
Coursing through my veins
I am cold like the snow
Icy, and frozen
Yet I am melting
Mellow in motion
I am so strong
Try and break down my walls
It is built thick
And ensured to never fall
I am so weak
My barriers are cracking
I can't hold it any longer
My fortress is tumbling
My soul is dry
Like the page of a book
I am an artist
Always misunderstood
1.6k · Jan 2014
I'm Sorry
Aarya Jan 2014
I'm sorry I wasn't what you wanted
I'm sorry I'm such a waste
I'm sorry I can't do anything right
I'm sorry I'm such a disgrace

I'm sorry I can't make you happy
I'm sorry you're not proud of me
I'm sorry I cannot change
I'm sorry this is how it has to be

I'm sorry I'm not polite
I'm sorry I'm so clumsy
I'm sorry I can't think straight
I'm sorry I'm so grumpy

I wish I wasn't such a disappointment
I wish I lived up to your expectations
I wish I could be how you wanted me to be
I wish I wasn’t such degradation

I can see every time
When I try to make something right
I see that look in your eyes
Filled with disgust, embarrassment, and shame
But you just sadly smile and say it's alright
Those are all lies
I know you’re just trying to be nice

I know even though you don't tell me
I don't make the cut
I can tell by the way you look at me
I'm the weak one, I'm the runt
1.3k · Jan 2014
Hourglass Figure
Aarya Jan 2014
To be truthful, I have never understood why
So many of us have crave to look this way
Tell me that this really is not what we
Consider to be beautiful, but in fact
I think it looks rather sickening
Someone please tell me
why such a need
and urgency
to be shaped as this?
I don’t understand why
An empty stomach is worth such a
Thin waist, and thousands of money on
Transplants and surgeries are of such high
Value to you. Do you feel beautiful? Do you
Feel accepted in society? Because this is shaped like
This and this is shaped like that? Howcome you allow yourself
To fall to such conformism in a society that makes you need to be
Molded in a certain way; I think that the only curves you need to worry
About is the one on your face. Smile and I promise you that it will be more
Beautiful and worthy than such a rotten shape that you work too hard to preserve
1.1k · Jan 2014
I don't have one
Aarya Jan 2014
Sometimes* I have bad days
When red suddenly becomes my favorite color
And I want to take revenge on everyone
By hurting myself.
Then I get even angrier  
Because I can't even do that properly
I was always a coward.
These nights I feel so guilty
and regretful
I contain all these unnecessary feelings
That I cannot even write a decent poem with
I think life is just testing me
Just little obstacles
Like jerky boys
and math
But more of math.
I have convinced myself I won't be pretty
until my mid-twenties
Surely, I can wait  
I have never had lower back pain like this
Nor have I ever been so fond of red
Maybe this satisfies me
As I lay useless on my bed listening to
"You know I'm No Good"   by  a
woman who died of drugs
or something like that
I question what has become of this alternative living
1.0k · Jan 2014
Feeling Numb
Aarya Jan 2014
This shade of white is making me rather cold and now I feel numb.
Only the gray can make me warm again. It makes me comfortably empty. So let the clouds in the early dawn travel time and watch me hopelessly fantasize about this future in which although it is mine, I cannot see myself.
How can this be true? I was only alive yesterday! But, ah, you see those were yesterday’s feelings.
I feel different today. Getting more used to and consociated to this black abyss which I was senselessly ****** into the other day. And although your brick walls were held up so high, mine was never built and instead I hide myself in the thick fog that crept into my open soul one night while I was sleeping; I woke up and I swear I couldn’t find myself. I was already hidden so well, the lost girl who was a coward and so stupidly took shelter in something that could never protect her.
No, the world doesn’t protect people nor lost souls. It will only hunt you down and torment you until it is sure that you no longer breathe life, but cold air. But I guess that was my fault for not building up your brick walls.
And in that moment, as it happened, everything that I had ever dreamed of mercilessly divided and shattered like all the stars in the sky for someone else to find.
The only difference was from then on I wasn’t cold or bitter or emotionless or blank like everyone thought would happen if I got depressed.
It and I, was only nothing.
The latest victim of the world.
Yet, I felt so soft, like the curve of a swan’s neck.
So infinitely impossible.
So therefore, I wish I could tell you, but this shade of white is making me rather cold and now I feel numb.
Aarya Jan 2014
you're lazy
and no one knows why
but there is still no one else
who can make me
laugh as hard
as you do

we met on accident
and you proved the unimaginable for me
oh what i wouldn't do to save you

i've never cried for a friend
as much as i have for you
you are so lovely
and i wish you were still here

i think you're the first typical best friend
i've ever had
will be an adventure with you

i once said
you put me in a phase
and you still do
thank you
for letting me think that you care

i love all your musical similes and metaphors
you're the only one i know who does that
you are really such a beautiful person
please don't ever change

we don't really talk as much
but you'll never know how happy it makes me
when you still get excited when we meet
i really hope you're doing okay

you really crack me up
when you tell me your future plans
about being a stripper
you are so much better than you think you are

you are so far away
but im still looking forward to the day
you open that restaurant
and watching criminal minds with you

i don't really consider you a friend
but thanks anyway

i'll never forget when you just sat with me
in the middle of the quad
with my ice cream
and we talked and laughed about nothing
and everyone was looking at us
because there were empty tables around us
but we sat on the floor instead

i saved you for last
because i honestly don't know what to say
other than
you mean everything
your head isn't in the right place
but then again thats just me
because i think so highly of you
Aarya Feb 2014
So this is basically a rant and things I can't really tell people.

To all the friends,
who I thought I needed-
I just realized that I don't.
Because I am done with worrying
about what to think
and what to say to you.  
Done with debating
what it is.
And done with **** people.

To all of my friends
who I think I still need-
I don't.
Restraining myself from telling you about my every day
Isn't easy
But now sending myself emails
has become too habitual
I found a substitute for you.                                                             ­                                                                 ­              

To both of my parents,
thank you.
I don't agree with anything you say
But up till now you were always right
So I don't know who is wrong this time
Sorry for all the problems I have caused

To my little brother-
you did get meaner.
And I wish that you could be
one of the people who don't mock me
It's okay though
But know that I will never be
"fun" again.

To the girl who thinks this is for her:
It's not.
To the girl who thinks it isn't for her:
It is.
I'll still always be there for you
Because it is you that I do need
950 · Jan 2014
Aarya Jan 2014
We kissed
And it was nothing like fireworks.
Tell me again
Whey there is no time else like November
A vague remembrance of my childhood
I think I was supposed to be having the time of my life
Time does not change what happens
The same things keep coming back
But it’s the same story over and over
I’ll just play along
I heard kisses were supposed to feel like fireworks.
939 · Jan 2014
Aarya Jan 2014
My heart burns like a simple fire
It's flames roaring in my chest
It is like a sin, to make me feel guilt
Blazing with so many secrets to confess

My heart burns like a simple fire
Entwined of sorrow, anger, shame
Emotions coiled in its wrath
Built up in its flames

My heart burns like a simple fire
But it is like a curse, I tell you, a curse
Everytime, it's flames grow larger
It burns me up to be immersed

My heart burns like a simple fire
I constantly hear its crackling
Everytime the little flames twist and turn
Like something in me is cackling

I am the girl who carries a fire within her
A curse, I tell you, a curse
But I have sinned so many times
I can tell, any moment it is going to
Leap right out of my chest
And burst
802 · Jan 2014
If Colors Were Drugs
Aarya Jan 2014
If colors
   would be
beautiful reality
white would
be a
numb dream
would be
a shade of
and grey
be my light
and red
would only
scream and yell
and laugh at me
from the golden frames
of long paintings
and blue
would whisper
a cold lullaby
into my
and green
would be
only a
brown would be my
and be
it covered me
yet would
remind me
we were
a bunch
and yellow
would only
make me
completely hollow
and black
would cradle me
and rock
me gently to sleep
in its arms,
my drug.”
792 · Jan 2014
Aarya Jan 2014
That dear young man
Who lived on the corner of Wolf's street
Shaggy brown hair
Oh, he was sweet

I remember the days
When he stole me away
Took me for a ride
It was sad we parted ways

The memory of that night
We lay on a field of grass
We stared up at the stars
He said he had something to ask

“Did you know?
That there's a star in the sky
For every person in love?"
So when you feel lonely
Just look above

But do you know
What the saddest part is
Life's not fair
There are an odd number of stars
In the sky, up there

“Do you have a star?"
He asked.
Do I? I wondered
I wish I had answered
But then it began to thunder

Now I know the answer
But that was years ago
If he asked me again
I would say so

But that dear young man
Who lived on the corner of Wolf's street
Doesn't live there anymore
But boy, he was sweet

But that was years ago
Now I stare up at the sky
If he asked me again
He would hear my reply

The saddest part is
Life's not fair
There are an odd number of stars
In the sky, up there

I have a star
I always did
But now he doesn't
And I feel morbid

But that's not the end
Of that love story
True, the man had died
And he had no star
He was always watching her
Even from afar
780 · Jan 2014
Aarya Jan 2014
What does it mean?
To live
To exist
To feel the solidness
Of this breath

The firmness
The rhythm
The pureness of air
Things you regret

To many people
It is only air
going in
going out

A cycle to keep living
From the nose
Or the mouth

But what most of us
Do not know
It is more than just a breath

It is forever going
When we don't realize its there

It is not only a symbol of life
But there's another meaning

Within each breath
Lies simplicity
It will never be ridden

This was overlooked
And for now
It is just a breath

going in
going out
Even when you rest

Scientific knowledge
That is all people see
As long as we have breath
What more could we need

But tell me
What does it really mean
To live
To exist
To touch
To feel
To smell
To taste
To hear
Tell me
What more is real
Wrote this in middle school.
773 · Mar 2015
Aarya Mar 2015
At night they gather on the roof
Frolicking around while I dream in bed
Watching closely, yet still aloof
I think they're only in my head.  

They always stay near in hand
And all my poetry they have read
Their presence is always grand
I think they're only in my head.

The six of them have hearts of gold
And the blood flowing is even red
Yet their type is still untold
I think they're only in my head.

At night they gather on the roof
I think they're only in my head.
Aarya Jan 2014
you are first
because we had a great friendship
but i should have realized
that wasn't something
you cared enough about to preserve

you really are ****** up
but i know that you would have laughed if i told you that
like you do to everything
i've never been so sad until i saw your scarred arms
but i wish you would realize
how amazing you are

our hallway hugs
are meaningless
but i still care about you

i remember how scared i was at the time
at the thought of losing you
but no matter how much you lied
it was worth it

i guess we never really were friends
no matter how hard i tried
but thanks for the memories

sixth grade was good
so was seventh
but from then on
things really just weren't the same

im still waiting for you to apologize
and perhaps sometime
we can talk again

i still remember you
from elementary school
i don't know where you are anymore
but i will never forget your name

you once told me
to come to your house
in san francisco
you pointed your hands above your head
and said it had a pink roof

i still call you my best friend
only because its been so long
but who knows what really is going on
593 · Feb 2014
Aarya Feb 2014
I only took the rat poison
Because I thought there were rats inside of me

And sprayed the inside of my mouth with pesticide
Because I could feel the bugs crawling up and down my throat

That day I tried to drown myself
Was only because I thought
If my demons knew how to swim
Escape would be easy

When I opened up my arms
I only wanted to free the nightmares

I took thirty- six sleeping pills
Because I thought it would
Hush the voices in my mind

The whole gallon of gasoline
Was not intended
Just enough ( A few ounces or so)
So the fire inside of me would burn out

And the cup of charcoal
Because I realized
I wanted everything back
549 · Jan 2014
Aarya Jan 2014
I don't ever want anyone to feel
like they knew me
or that they ever meant something to me.
If anything happens
And the relationship is terminated,
we can continue to be strangers.
When we pass
in the hallway
I don't want you wondering
how I am
what ever happened
to that thing
I was telling you about
many nights ago.
I don't want  you to care.
Nor do I want you to think that I let you
get to know me
or be important to me.
It was honestly nothing.
I hope you didn't think that I ever cared
in the first place
because I never did.
Not to that extent.
You are not that special.
We can still talk
Because no matter what
I forgive everybody
because I want to
But I guarantee you
You will never again feel like you actually
knew who I was
You can ask me how my day is
And I'll reply the same
each time
Then I will ask you how your day was
And you'll tell
I promise not to interrupt
But then again
I'm not ever listening
Because I don't care about you enough.
I hope that you fully understand
It is not your fault
It's mine.
485 · Jan 2014
Aarya Jan 2014
I always wondered what it felt like.
Not being able to breathe
Just silently sinking down
And then it ends, and it’s a relief.

I’ve always managed to float.
Or at least keep my head above the surface
And there were those times when I would almost let go and fall in
But I thought everybody has a purpose.

Now I know how it feels
And I wish I didn’t know
Because I feel like I’m drowning
But I can see everyone around me breathing

I don’t know if it’s worth the fight
When you’re slowly sinking into the deep
And you know if you let yourself fall any more
You can’t get out, but it would all end and be a relief.

And then there’s that moment
When you suddenly change your mind.
I don’t want this to happen to me, I want to get better.
By then you’re almost of time.

So you start thrashing around, struggling.
I can resurface, I can.
And you fight against the force of the water
That’s when the struggle began.

I want to know how to breathe again.
I’ve been in the deep so long.
I want to feel the same like I used to be
I don’t want to have to be strong.

So you start lashing out, in the water.
Whipping, and beating, and squirming.
I’m so close. So close.
I can fulfill that yearning.

Do you know what it’s like?
To almost be there, just a nose away.
It’s like I can breathe. I can breathe again.
But then it’s dark all over
And I realize I’m back in the deep.
Too deep. Too dark to see.

I can just catch a glimpse of the sun’s rays.
Before I’m pulled back into the abyss.
I might never see the light again, I have to stay here forever.
I’ll just wait though, I can wait.
                                                                                                                                  It will be worth the endeavor.
413 · Feb 2014
Aarya Feb 2014
I just realized
that you are a *****.

— The End —