This is one of those moments she yearned for the world to stop dead,
to hear nothing but utter silence, eyes shut,
suddenly everything fades into black
Her throat sore and tightening, the heaviness of her heart
her fingers cold, forming lines in her left wrist
and when she's insatiable she draws another on her right hip
It made her feel alive, the sting,
like how you made her feel when she lets you touch her bare skin
she wished she would remain like this for long,
alive and happy
But happiness seemed too much to ask for as hoping,
hoping she is not partly dead and mostly sad and empty
Though there were better days,
like how she liked the color of her nails or her sad playlist
and then she pretends like she belonged with everyone else, oh how she does this remarkably well
But amongst the chatter comes solitude to her like a friend, and it is real and comforting,
and it did not leave her like what the others did,
it listened to her wept while she held her chest from the ache of her vague existence
Those were her gray days, the worst of her,
when she felt like there was a raging storm inside her head
Her body frail,
she felt worthless,
loathing herself for what she became
Is there no escape from this prison that is my mind she asked
at that moment she did not desire to be buried but she wanted
them to grieve
Yet all she ever dreamed of is to drown,
along with her demons,
the demise of her old self she wish she had loved
into a stream full of flowers, curled hair, dressed in aubergine
Mar 17
Mar 17, 2026 at 2:50 PM UTC
This is one of those moments she yearned for the world to stop dead,
to hear nothing but utter silence, eyes shut,
suddenly everything fades into black
Her throat sore and tightening, the heaviness of her heart
her fingers cold, forming lines in her left wrist
and when she's insatiable she draws another on her right hip
It made her feel alive, the sting,
like how you made her feel when she lets you touch her bare skin
she wished she would remain like this for long,
alive and happy
But happiness seemed too much to ask for as hoping,
hoping she is not partly dead and mostly sad and empty
Though there were better days,
like how she liked the color of her nails or her sad playlist
and then she pretends like she belonged with everyone else, oh how she does this remarkably well
But amongst the chatter comes solitude to her like a friend, and it is real and comforting,
and it did not leave her like what the others did,
it listened to her wept while she held her chest from the ache of her vague existence
Those were her gray days, the worst of her,
when she felt like there was a raging storm inside her head
Her body frail,
she felt worthless,
loathing herself for what she became
Is there no escape from this prison that is my mind she asked
at that moment she did not desire to be buried but she wanted
them to grieve
Yet all she ever dreamed of is to drown,
along with her demons,
the demise of her old self she wish she had loved
into a stream full of flowers, curled hair, dressed in aubergine
