Megan

Megan Feb 2018

The story of the princess and the phoenix

I am encapsulated in a cocoon of pain,
it runs through my veins –
my blood is oxygenated with sorrow.
I clutch a cigarette between my middle and index fingers,
the only thing I’ve touched so intimately since.
The smoke that trails into my lungs
blackens my insides,
ensuring I no longer have to refer to the darkness inside of myself using a metaphor.

Why should I care for a body I don’t want to inhabit anymore?

I am littered with scars,
from my metal companion –
a friend when I was no longer loved by all.
A fiery soul burned out,
like the cigarette that I wish to be infinite.
But phoenixes resurrect after they burn down in flames
- I always knew I was not human.

Maybe the heat I felt nipping the inside of my skin,
since I was an infantile girl
was preparing me for the flames that have now engulfed me,
making me question:
do I want to live or do I want to die?

But my favourite bed time stories were the ones about
the princesses that saved themselves,
and their animal companions that could bring themselves back to life.

Little did I know I would be both.

Little did I know
I was a princess and a phoenix
all in one.

#surviving #healing #recovery #strength

Feb 2018

Poetic T

Blunt Blades Cut Deeper

Words are sometimes
                   like a blunt knife,
           they can cut over time
and you don't realize that itch
is but the blade edging deeper
under the guise of an scratch.

Sometimes people can stab
                                 you slowly,
and you never realize that
even though by your side.
their hand Isn't holding you,
              but the hilt pushing it deeper
with snake smiles coloured as friendship.

#lies #blade #cut #deeper #realize

Feb 2018

Christine

Death, Don't Be Afraid

To you, death

to you I wrote a letter only a lifetime ago
signed as nobody,on the day of never.
In a limbo where I had but a paper and time
to free me from writings of your feather.
An eternity only I begged to stay longer
this contract I've signed I give back.
Enough, you said? No, it wasn't
I thought as you painted me black.

To you, death

you who turned my hourglass upside down
and left her alone to sail the storms of sand.
Saharas in eyes, tears come from another
hides them from world with her hand.
Howls I heard from afterlife, clear and loud
as waves of screams you covered me with.
Drowning me coldly you pulled me under
your heartlessness more than a myth.

To you, death

who closed your eyes at the sight of an ending
seeing such love was a first.
For even you could not reap all we have planted
in the grand Eden on Earth.
Like a snake's venom you infected our heaven
spreading but loss and sorrow.
A disease of the heart, your favourite bred crumb
so you know your way back for tomorrow.

to you, death

who shall receive another letter
signed as a nobody on the days of forever.
In lifetime of being the wind in her hair
she won't feel it again, never.
To touch her face one more time in raindrops
is how I understand bliss.
To shine in her smile as the warmth of the Sun
bathing in ocean's abyss.
To guide her gentle steps in the ground she walks on,
to keep her warm with a flame.
To kiss her lips in the river water
I only can, because I lived again.

To You, Death.

Do not be afraid to take my hand this time,
we've met before but now you're young.
Please, as you're taking me, don't close your eyes
now I walk with you wiser of tongue.
Do not be afraid to guide me tonight
and please have no regrets.
Know that I will gladly meet you
on the side I will pay my debts.
Let's us meet again in peace
now that my chess game is done.
As someone who has become time
and knows you like a son.

Do not be afraid to come for me death,
I promise to go right away.
Do not be afraid to come for me friend,
you can hold my hand if you're scared.

#death #love #romance #dying

Megan Feb 2018

The destruction caused by ****

My therapist used to say that
I get the flashbacks because
I don't talk about it enough.

But how am I supposed to talk about it
when everyone tells me that my story has been made invalid
by the alcohol in my bloodstream,
and the fact that I laughed about it the next day?

We all have different ways to survive.

How was I supposed to process my emotions the morning after
when I had blood dripping down my legs,
standing in the 6am cold,
because shivering outside without a jacket
was far better than staying in a room with one of my rapists,
and the lingering smell of shame?

I am far too young to feel a pain like this.

A pain so heavy that my entire soul is flattened
by the weight I carry around.

A violation so evil
that I cannot help but leave my body -
it is no longer mine
but a vessel
that carries the blackness of my ache,
my thoughts that turn to ash when I try to say them out loud
and the demons that have possessed me.

Demons born from the three of you.

How can I continue
when I can still feel three pairs of unwanted hands,
      gripping,
hitting,
bruising me
all at once?

How can I breathe
when I can still feel six eyes
on the most intimate parts of me,
every vulnerability and weakness?

How can I live
when I still have pieces of you
entangling yourselves around my bones,
suffocating my heart?

I thought that by burying it all deep into myself -
every 'it' that you called me,
every bruise left on my skin,
every single ****** that tore me apart -
encased by my ribcage,
wrapped in skin that you made into paper,
I would be able to carry on.

I created my very own Pandora's box.

But you escaped;
every millilitre of your venom
is combined and coursing through my veins,
poisoning each one of my nerve endings.

I no longer see the same version of myself,
like looking in a broken mirror,
each fragment showing a different flaw, a different shame.
I am not me.

I am full of darkness.
My mind is sick,
I am filled to the brim with hate and anger and inescapable sadness.
You made me into a monster
that leaves fingerprints of acid on everything I touch.

Is there anything worse
than seeing six vitriolic eyes
everywhere I go?

Is there anything worse
than your visits to me when I sleep,
waking up drenched in sweat because of the horror?

Is there anything worse
than feeling a constant lump of anxiety in my throat,
whenever I'm left alone? -
because please
please
please don't feed me to the wolves again!

Is there anything worse
than starving myself because
no-one will ever love me unless I'm thin because
I'm too riddled with trauma?

Is there anything worse
than blaming myself so much
that I started hurting myself again?

No-one ever tells you that trauma lasts forever,
but I'm learning that now.
Because it's been ten months and twenty-two days since
the three of you destroyed me...

And you've been destroying me every day since.

If you've read this to the end, THIS is the destruction caused by **** - stop injustice anywhere you can

#**** #tw #trigger #suicide #anorexia #selfharm #important

Megan Feb 2018

An ode to my mum

Maybe you are my guardian angel;
    or maybe you are simply my mother.
Your heart always so gentle,
     the purest form than any other.

As if I am your physical beating heart,
     and you are the unbreakable ribs,
I have never known a more protective guard,
    since the time I was sleeping in the crib.

I was seven when you could no longer hide,
    the first of many times I would witness,
how broken you really were inside,
    Mummy's never shown her weakness...

I was seven when I had to force you to eat,
    cover you with blankets when you fell asleep,
and wipe the tears from your cheeks.
     That's when I learned that it was okay to weep.

You continue to carry me forward
     despite the added weight on my shoulders;
You make sure I'm armoured,
     should I ever falter.

There is not enough metaphors,
    to adequately describe you.
No amount of words in a bookstore
    can describe your value.

It's been you and I for a while now,
     We have put each other back together;
So take this as my final vow,
     I promise to fix you forever.

My dearest mother, I promise to stay seven forever

#mother #mum #love

Megan Feb 2018

Who am I?

I am the spark that starts the fire.
I am the flame
the oxygen that fuels the burn
and the inferno.

I am the aspirin
that cures you
and I am the cyanide that kills you.

Only touch me if you dare;

I am a land mine.

I am a lone flower petal.

I am the hand that takes the gun from your head
at your lowest points.
I am the finger that pulls the trigger
behind your back.

Who am I?

#darkness #light #dissociation