Mum and dad look, i have a poem
It is a poem I've written and kept and hidden
It is a poem I'll get mad about if you take a peek
Mum and dad look. I have a poem
I honestly hate to mention you in my poem
I don't want any of you be in any of my poem
Mum and dad look. I have a poem
This poem is not for you, mum and dad
This poem is not about you, mum and dad
Why would you think i would sacrifice a poem for you. Mum and dad?
Why would you think i would keep you safely in the blanket of my fluffy words. Mum and dad?

Mum and dad look. I have a poem
I wrote my first poem at 4 and it wasn't about you so you were sad but you did not want to admit it so you made fun of me, right?
Mum and dad look, i have a poem
Mum and dad look. It is not only one poem
I have hundreds and hundreds poems. Mum and dad
Mum and dad look
Those are what I've written all these years
Those are what I've kept from you all these years
Those are what I've hidden from your eyes and mother tongues
Please
Just misunderstand me. It's enough
My english is irrelevant. Leave it alone
Mum and dad. Look i have a poem
Mum and dad look i have a poem
I have a
Mum and dad will you read my poems?
Mum and dad will you misunderstand them again and again just like what you do to me?

Mum and dad. Look i have
Mum and dad look i have
Mum and dad look i have

a poem

I keep thinking i haven't washed my hair
My head seems to not be able to forget the grease
Maybe deep down i just want it to stay
(I washed my hair this morning
In the sink)

I keep thinking i'm doing great
That's what my therapist said too
But sometimes i wish i was dying more visibly
Sometimes i wish i made more signs
Sometimes i wish i hadn't gotten better

I don't want to stop
I want to want to stop
I don't want to stop

What?
I got nothing to show you
I got none to tell you

Remission is a weird state
Everything partial makes me uncomfortable
I just want to cling to whatever i had
Don't ****** away my ghosts
Don't ****** away
They come back anyway
Befriending me again

Better to deserve and not have
Than to have and not deserve...
Better to do and not to be recognised
Than to be recognised and not have done...

One day
A friend in need
I did everything I could
I did not give up
He pushed away
He was sick
He was my brother
I was his little sister
Not of blood
But of heart
He was giving up
I wasn't
Even if he pushed away
I would always stay
He wouldn't answer
I thought all I did was in vain
But I kept on doing it

Now I know
Nothing was in vain
It's not the same though
But he is thankful for being my main
My main thought throughout those dark days
He is thankful for all I did
And he says without me he'd be lost

Now I know
Better to deserve and not have
Than to have and not deserve...
Better to do and not to be recognised
Than to be recognised and not have done...

It's the after taste of the handful of pills you take,
Every day,
Every night.

It's the headache you get after you cry,
Tears you didn't even know  you had.

It's the chalky sensation,
Of the pills in your chest.

It's the heart burn in your ribcage
That burns into your throat.

It's the vicious pain in your wrists,
Before the blade hits.

It's the hyperventilation that keeps you from seeing.

But it's the moment you realize,
That death is not painful,
Nor is it a release.

It's the eerie sense of calm,
Before the storm sets in.

You feel nothing.
You think nothing but
"This is it."

You feel as though everything has built up
To this point.

That everything you love
Has fallen apart.

It's the moment of fear that comes after,
When you decide that it was wrong
When you decide you don't want this,
When you realize what you've done.

It's getting pushed around by nurses,
After you tell them why you're there.

It's being told "You deserve this"
By the people you thought cared.

So call me a **** up.
Call me a monster.

But don't you dare call me a coward.

I have looked Death in the face and refused his offers.

I have chosen life and light above Death and Darkness.

I have come over the hill and back again,
And made amends and seen the truth.

What is right is not always easy, and what is easy is not always right.

You wrap my hair around your index finger,
And tell me that you love me.
No less, no more, than you ever have before.

You kiss my forehead and hold my hand,
And whisper that you'll never leave me.
As long as I am forever breathing.

You hugged me goodbye before I went to work,
When I came home you were so badly hurt,
Blood pouring from ever eligible place,
I'd never seen such terror on somebody's face.

You died that day, in an awful way,
And now I miss you every single day.
Suicide is not alright, people shouldn't have to fight.

I've never experienced such pain in my chest,
As when the doctors told me you were out of breath.

I'm forever in debt to you, for the happiness that you gave me,
Was evidently more than I ever gave to you.

i was smoking on the balcony earlier
the sun still refusing to set
birds chirping
mosquitoes biting
someone in the neighborhood throwing a party
in all its simplicity, and maybe due to it,
the setting made me tear up:

roughly three years ago,
i cried on that balcony at night
for hours and hours
i was fixing to die but so scared of the thought
i never wrote a letter either;

roughly two years ago,
i was on that balcony grinning like hell,
my insides felt ablaze because
you were on the other end of the phonecall
and you were saying you loved me
and the tear stains had quite dried up by then;

roughly a year ago,
i was on that balcony biting my lips to blood,
because i'd realized i had a crush on you
and knew i was only a friend
my head swarming with thoughts of guilt
and i could not remember smiling at the sound of your voice
without the sting of feeling like a criminal;

now, we are set to meet in three days
it's no big deal
we still are not okay
but gods, i have been bleeding for so long it's starting to feel comfortable
we are adults
and we're spending three days by the sea
like adults
it's going to be awkward,
and i'm going to get blind drunk
and i'm going to be pathetic
and i'm going to beg
and i'm going to cry
and you're going to cry
and you're going to apologize
and you're going to be petty
and you're going to get blind drunk
and it's going to be awkward,
but we're adults
and i can manage;

so i was smoking on the balcony,
the sun quite close to going home
the sky as colorful as drug-induced insomnias
and even though i have three years' worth of bitter memories,
i was alive to see a fourth
i am alive
and it's not easy, and it's not pleasing, and it's not great,
but it is good enough.

He walked slowly and deliberately
Each step had a purpose
Each step brought him closer to the means to an end
His eyes were dark and serious
People looked into them and only saw a chilling layer of ice
His mouth was formed into a tight and grim expression
He didn’t like to waste words
People called him angry and aloof but it wasn’t his fault he was like that
He used to care too much about the world around him
That same world made him like this
Over and over again he was subjected to pain and disappointment
Finally, it got to him and he changed
His smile ceased to have its day
His blood begin to freeze
His steps became precise
His eyes now shot a menacing glare
He became cold-hearted