I have this really amazing friend,
Her name is Radha.
She's great, she deserves the world ♡
She once witnessed me in pain
And she said to me,
"Fairy, get a pen and a book and just start writing.
Anything that bothers you.
Anything you wanna talk about but can't find words to say.
Anything you want out of you,
just write it..."

I admired her approach; it's really great!
'Cause I do write, and it does help...
It helps me to listen to myself clearly,
Without my brain jumbling up my thoughts,
And without my heart shaking in my chest.
But what if she knew,
About the things I write about...
About the things that I constantly think about,
About the things I dream about,
The things I ache about?
What if she knew,
**** even the things that I laugh about,
About the things I can't say out loud,
About the things I burden this site about..?
What if she knew?

-fir.m

I always throw these really cool birthday parties
And I always invite a bunch of people
From Near and far
And have always made loads of effort into making it perfect;
The right venue, the correct menu,
For all the people old and new-
In whatever childish attempt to make myself feel like I am loved
To help myself to feel that I am loved,
But I can not recall the last time I had a birthday
Where I didn't wish that I wasn't born.

-fir.m

I'm so tired of crying myself to sleep,
I hope that one day, after my debts to this world have been paid,
I do not wake.

-fir.m

I swear it, I'm not suicidal or anything,
But do you know how hard it is to breathe,
It's so hard that I just wished that I stopped.

-fir.m.

Living was easier when we thought that pain was only given to us by criminals, vile humans & enemies.

-fir.m

I'm sorry Hello Poetry,
For being as pathetic as I am.
You see, I've often heard the quote that goes something like-
-'Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.--
But I feel like I keep loving and loving and loving
And even though I keep losing and losing and losing
I still keep loving and loving and loving
And it aches me, 'cause do they even miss my love?
The love that comes from every good atom of my existence,
The love I try so hard and hard to keep pure, to keep real, to keep lit!
Do they miss it?
So I'm sorry for being pathetic,
For not wanting to accept that loneliness might just be meant for me,
For not having anymore love to give anyone.
They'll just take it away and move on,
And leave me as is, pathetic as ever,
So what's the point even?

-fir.m