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Ayesha 6h
The first time, at the age of four,
when I first peeked under my tongue
after brushing my teeth,
I got scared.
Frightened by the ugliness of it.
All the ruptured rivers of my veins and vessels,
the indefinite patterns of colonization of my cells;
a naked mannequin of the story I held inside.

It was as if someone had peeled the skin
off my tongue at my birth
and now all the prisoners were striving to escape.
It was as if someone had abducted the blanket
away, when I was sleeping
and now the monster under the bed was clawing its way out
asking if I needed a friend.

Scared that I would damage the fragile wires,
I carefully laid my tongue back in her cradle,
hoping that someday, the skin would be back.
That she had only walked around the corner of the alley
and she would be back.
That the vacancy in my heart did not mean she was gone,
she had only gone to the mall to grab some sweets
and she would be back.

Each day, I would steal a peep,
in belief that I might find her there.
Though foolish of me, sure, it was to hope.
Smart of me it was to stay away from despair.

I still get scared when I glance under my tongue.
But not because of the ugliness, no.
The darkness.
The darkness that, I know, flows beneath those streams.
The darkness that, I fear, resides behind my skin,
liking, biting and swallowing the hollow of my being.

I still shut my mouth as quick as I can,
sending my tongue back to sleep,
but not because I am afraid to cause damage, no.
The destruction.
The chaos.
All the words that hide inside my enigmatic brain.
All the demons that lurk around the shadows of my heart.

The beasts and ogres that I once crafted
out of the ashes of my soul.
They skulk in the void of my chest,
their laughs echoing around the abyss
where once cherished my being.
They drink and dance and gamble away all my life.
They joke and sing, and rob me of all my hope.

I still check the cave in my mouth,
day after day.
Not in hope of arrival of spring, no,
but in helplessness of my desperate desire.
In temptation to split open a vessel,
and watch all the nothingness,
flow out of my mouth into the inviting sink.
In temptation to ravage the last barrier into pieces
and feel all my creations drain out of my body.

In temptation to to see the corpse of my soul
sail away with the tides of my untiring blood.

--to be free.
When I said I was wondering about life, I might just have meant its end.
Ayesha 3d
"I just want it to end."

We say that not only in angst of despair
but in its temptation as well.

Despair and desperation might just be sisters.
Ayesha 3d
As I stare out
unable to spot out
a light,
a spark,
or a sun
on this starless night
as I start to feel
the numb,
arive and take control
of my insipid body,
I wish.
An act I stopped practising ages ago.
I wish that I could paint
a moon
and splash some
on the dead sky
outside my glass window,
and stare at it.

-A fake reason to hope-

I can fathom the black into shades of white and grey
but I can't fathom myself.
Ayesha 3d
The moon is fading
once more, and I can't help but
wish to go along.

Composed during one of the dawns of despair.
Broken mirrors
Broken hearts
Broken minds
Like shards of glass
The patterns forming a work of art
Shrouded by demons of the past

The black cat saunters over
Tipping salt as he alludes
To the bad luck I can’t dispose of
Rubbing salt into my wounds.

I see an Orthodox priest
A ***** blonde with blue eyes
The people murmur as he passes by
Garlic, they cry,
To fight the psychotic presence
In order to eliminate
This demonic essence.

He blessed an expectant mother
In flat #43
He doesn’t recognise her folly
And leaves her in glee.

A young soldier
One among 3
Died after his cigarette was lit
From the same matchstick
As the clock struck 4
A constant reminder
Of its incessant tick-tock
In spite of the woe

The woman- pregnant no more
Comes to the cemetery threshold
Wishing her late husband
And stillborn boy cheerio.

I look at the sky
There they glide, the harbingers of evil
Thick billed ravens and crows
A symbol of one’s sorrows
Flying over the dead
In search of a feast of despair.

Leaving my new shoes on the table
I kiss my love’s forehead
And point at the rainbow outside
While thinking I’m the luckiest woman alive.
Pinks and golds,
blues and purples,
So many colours
Of the sky I hadn’t noticed.

Clarity in chaos
Cold sunlight
Thundering silence
Absence of life

The endless days
The boring nights
Filled with meaningless chatter
And petty fights

Nothing matters
Not anymore
It’s just a matter of time
Until we’re all gone.

So take a deep breath
Sing another psalm
Who knows
It could be your swan song.

Or so the fortune tellers
And seers of the world
Would have us believe
When despair takes its toll
And gnaws at our grief.

Faith keeps us moving.
Faith brings us together.
Faith is enough for me to love.
It is enough for me to LIVE.
Jul's 6d
I wanna escape
To a place were there is love
Instead of everyone who don't believe in me
  There is a cape in my heart that needs to be filled
No matter what some one pulls me down
Right when I'm happy with myself
I have worked so ******* my sobriety
I just feel people in recovery understands me better
I am a better person now
I'm not in a fog nomore, an I'm not a push over nomore
I'm the one who's gonna win an the people
Who support me in it
nance May 21
"Suicide is a desperate attempt to escape suffering that has become unbearable. Blinded by feelings of self-loathing, hopelessness, and isolation, a suicidal person can’t see any way of finding relief except through death. But despite their desire for the pain to stop, most suicidal people are deeply conflicted about ending their own lives. They wish there was an alternative to suicide, but they just can’t see one."

Suicide Prevention line

Crisis text line
US and Canada: text HOME to 741741
UK: text HOME to 85258
Ireland: text HOME to 086 1800 280
This is not a poem and this is not in my own words. I've been a person who suffers from depression and a person who desperately looked for ways to stop or numb the pain with drugs, drink, self-harm, and eventually multiple unsuccessful suicide attempt. I want to let you know I hated it when people said "chin up," "I understand," "you need help," etc. etc. but to all those like me; as much as I hate to admit, we do need help. You might not want a therapist or a family member or a friend, but at least call the Suicide Prevention Hotline or Crisis Text Line. I understand it is weird to talk to a stranger but it helped me talk about things I could never talk about with a loved one. Call or text, they are a click away. They are supportive and kind and some even have had experiences with it themsevles. Be patient and think before taking your life because it may seem like the right option 9/10 times, but think of that 1/10. You are worth it, not worthless.
Adaa Sayed May 21
I thought  I could .
Afterall all these times , I finally thought I could .
But I lay in bed , unmoved till death .
The knife in my chest .
I only wanted you to tell me you loved me mom .
I still regret .
I wish I was more alive than dead .
- Adaa Sayed
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