I feel the broken shards wrapped around my heart,
and the fire scorching my soul
as I catch the glimpse of the ugly marks
a broken ruler might leave
like paper cuts on fingers.
I feel my minds dwindling, spiralling,
falling into a bottomless pit,
without ever moving an inch as I stay put
and live through every iteration of how
my life can definitely fail.
I feel my tears run down dry,
like rain on a cloudless day:
pointless;
even as I leave the bruises and cuts
to my own hide
in the name of self-sabotage,
the concept of pain,
no matter how much it threatens my tears,
can never threaten my kindness
and facade
to accept it with arms wide open.
I am cut, bruised, sick, tired, and everything in between,
but I will never, for the life of me,
be killed by my own hands,
not after I found a reason to live.
Friends,
Ambitions,
Love;
A combination of the three,
a mirror as well;
someone I can always trust, dream, and love.
Someone who held me so close and so tight,
I never realized how much of myself
had been chipped off already
until she picked up my fragments,
and I held hers.
Someone, who after all these years,
of mental torture from those of my blood,
physical torture from mine alone
to which I feigned resiliency to,
I have found the reason to try and stop.
I've finally found her:
the one that I love;
someone to whom I will proudly say
"Good morning" to,
as I stand proud that I still live
to fight another day,
to fight for this reason.
Let my family **** me;
let the world run me over tenfold;
let my non-existent demons
punch me out cold,
but if opened my eyes and realized
that I'm still in pain,
then I shall refuse to die.
Not yet,
not for her.
Not now,
not ever.
Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 2:52 PM UTC
I feel the broken shards wrapped around my heart,
and the fire scorching my soul
as I catch the glimpse of the ugly marks
a broken ruler might leave
like paper cuts on fingers.
I feel my minds dwindling, spiralling,
falling into a bottomless pit,
without ever moving an inch as I stay put
and live through every iteration of how
my life can definitely fail.
I feel my tears run down dry,
like rain on a cloudless day:
pointless;
even as I leave the bruises and cuts
to my own hide
in the name of self-sabotage,
the concept of pain,
no matter how much it threatens my tears,
can never threaten my kindness
and facade
to accept it with arms wide open.
I am cut, bruised, sick, tired, and everything in between,
but I will never, for the life of me,
be killed by my own hands,
not after I found a reason to live.
Friends,
Ambitions,
Love;
A combination of the three,
a mirror as well;
someone I can always trust, dream, and love.
Someone who held me so close and so tight,
I never realized how much of myself
had been chipped off already
until she picked up my fragments,
and I held hers.
Someone, who after all these years,
of mental torture from those of my blood,
physical torture from mine alone
to which I feigned resiliency to,
I have found the reason to try and stop.
I've finally found her:
the one that I love;
someone to whom I will proudly say
"Good morning" to,
as I stand proud that I still live
to fight another day,
to fight for this reason.
Let my family **** me;
let the world run me over tenfold;
let my non-existent demons
punch me out cold,
but if opened my eyes and realized
that I'm still in pain,
then I shall refuse to die.
Not yet,
not for her.
Not now,
not ever.
But seriously
Imagine being 18 and still having curfew
Who wouldnt be driven crazy because of that?