we write because we are told
we write because we are cold
so why write poetry?
is it to obey
is it to simply misbehave
is it due today
is it more than what we say
why do you write poetry?
because I can
because I am
we are made to feel
we are made to speak
some people are quiet
and others are bleak
words are expressive and alive
but some words are best left to die
I read a quote somewhere that said,
"I don't know how many times I have survived myself, without telling anyone else."
And I felt those words shoot through every nerve in my body. I felt them so deeply.
And I wonder how many of us feel the same way.
How many nights we fought off the suicidal thoughts, the urge to cut, the urge to purge, the urge to run or to hide out, alone, too afraid to worry or bother our friends and family.
How many days and nights have we all suffered in our own darkness alone?
People like us fight a battle no one can ever fathom because it's a battle no one can see. And we don't let them.
I've fought myself and survived myself alone so many nights.
There were nights I use to lose my own battle. But some how still came out alive.
I guess that's how we keep going. Because every time we give up we come out stronger.
You fight yourself and beat yourself up for so long that eventually you become a master of surviving a war.
"I don't know how many times I've survived myself, without telling anyone else."
Tonight, I'm telling all of you.
I survived myself.
And if you're still here and you're reading this, you survived yourself too.
It's not easy but you did it.
And I'm so proud of you all.
The original quote "I dont know how many times I survived myself, without telling anyone else.", which triggered the whole poem was written by @deadwatered. A talented poet I follow on tumblr.
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.
When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.
If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.
But most people don’t see it.
Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.
The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
Today was the day.
Thinking how mad could I actually be.
Even thought of the ways I'd do the deed.
I knew exactly how to succeed.
All of this need to be taken from this world.
From the beginning,
I felt abandoned.
My 17-year-old birthmother gave me up.
& my birthfather didn't even show up.
12 years later,
God took the only mother I'd ever known.
I'm writing to the ones who drown in these turbulent waves.
Sympathizing with how suicide seems like the only outlet.
Especially when you sense is the walls closing further in.
Perhaps this is where we must begin.
We're all in pain.
Few of us choose to admit.
There must be people who ask "what's wrong?" & truly listen.
Don't assume you know what we're going through.
Chances are you have NO CLUE.
I told God this was truly my lowest point.
Even asked Him if He could sit by me & eat chips with me.
I believe He did.
The Holy Spirit began to say,
look at Matthew 4:1-11 the devil tempted me too.
I've been there & I didn't eat food for 40 days.
Which is why my Father sent me to save you,
& to show you how much I love you.
This was when all my worries passed away.
My hope is our stories will get better from here.
Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil. And when he had fasted forty days and forty nights, he was afterward hungry.
How did it start you might ask?
The story began when I was 16.
She knew just how to manipulate
me & so did Tim.
This was also the age I lost my
virginity to him.
Lured toward the lust I felt inside.
Which was why I had so much PRIDE.
She dated me & some other guy.
All along I was just her backup plan.
Keep in mind, I was a 10th grader in High School.
Going out to parties, smoking a bunch of cigarettes & ****.
Nothing mattered. Which left me feeling more alone than I ever did.
Didn't get the privilege to walk down the aisle with the rest of my classmates.
How can God forgive a misfit such as me?
How undeserving I was. Rebellion.
Plenty of drugs & clubs - my personal
favorite was Pulse Night Club.
Who was I when I wasn't with women?
This was my life for 10 years.
Later on, I watched a spoken word video
called Jesus > Religion.
For a moment it clicked, or so I thought.
Evidently realizing I was a religious fraud.
Once upon a time, I was among the dead.
Now I am fully alive in Yeshua.
I may never forget, even if He already has.
As far as the East is from the West.
Relentlessly pursuing me in my brokenness.
He has made me whole & new again.
I urge you to pick-up your cross.
The battle has already been won.
As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.
there were 2 at 2:22
1 was me and 1 was you
we took the night to pick our brains
open our thoughts and share our pains
you said you'd wear 2 pairs of jeans
cause kids thought you were too skinny
i said i think that love's a trick
cause everybody falls for it
you said you don’t know til you try
i said that is exactly why
then you read words within a prose
to my surprise they’re ones you wrote
i said i write poetry too
when i don’t know what else to do
cause paper is weightless, harmless, dead
and pain weighs less outside your head
there were 2 at 2:22
the exact time of when i knew
1 and 1 could make us 2
but fall again i cannot do
i’m sorry if at all it hurt
when i left without a word
I’d rather write than speak
My pen is always responsive
My ink doesn’t judge my mistakes
My paper doesn’t argue
My lines never cross me
My sentences never disappoint
And my words will never leave me