I wish could fly
High in the sky
Eat a big pie
Then **** in your eye
Because that’s what you deserve you treacherous little thieving scumbag.
Have a nice day
Wear a hat
I recognize my privilege.
I recognize my uselessness.
I recognize my inability to function.
I recognize that I may not be capable/disabled physically. But I am emotionally and mentally.
Though most of the voices are dimmed and quieter than before. They are not gone.
I feel them at the back of my mind.
Pressing at the barrier that is inforced by medication.
My self-loathing is stronger than ever though.
At every and one situation where I keep failing them.
At every and one situation where I keep being a disappointment.
At every and one situation where I am a disgrace to my mother's memory.
I know I am garbage.
I know I am worthless.
I know I am privileged
And Gods do I know I don't deserve anything I have.
Maybe I am proving that ***** right.
But the thing is.
I didn't ask for this.
For whatever broken thing that makes my DNA.
I didn't ask for this existence. This life.
I must have done something terrible in my past life to have been born so broken and in disrepair in this one.
I want to throw up. I want to die.
I don't want to be a part of this collective.
I don't want to breath anymore.
Let me drown.
Let me break my body into pieces against hard asphalt.
Let me suffocate in a car filled with gas.
Let me hang from a tree in the most secluded part of the park.
Let me drink the poisons under the sink.
Let me starve myself until my heart gives.
Let me burn underneath the hot sun until only the crows come to great me.
Let me fall from the highest point of a cliff.
Let me drink all the pills in the bottles to numb me to sleep.
Let me slit my veins vertically across my arms.
Let me puncture an artery so I may bleed out.
Let me breathe into the icy tundras of the north where my lungs will freeze and toes will turn blue.
Let the bite of a most wondrous creature in the humid south taking me into fevered dreams.
Let me bite the built so I swallow it whole and paint the walls, red, pink, grey, and wet.
Cant, you just let me pass on and away?
"No," says the instinct to self preserve the only thing that keeps me tied to this place.
I want yall to know...i don't plan on dying. Lol. Cause my body won't allow me to. There is a thing calls passive suicide idealization. My depression tends to manifest most often than not as apathy and or irritability.
And the people who are extensions of you breathe monoxide and speak with the sound of shrewd drills. I can't help but hear your voice through their wreckage.
“When you have to make a choice and don't make it, that is in itself a choice.” -William James
bed, quietly vacant
mind, quite a serene time doing
NaPoWriMo Day 30
Poetry form: Traditional Cinquain
With words against tyranny.
Beacon of courage.
"How can we expect righteousness to prevail when there is hardly anyone willing to give himself up individually to a righteous cause ..."
Sophie Scholl (✝ 22.2.1943)
thanks for asking
She had that passive presence
Like the ticking sound of a clock
Sometimes you might notice her
Most often at times you do not
Like a wallflower, she is
You notice her on the wall
But then you get use to her
And don't care if she's there at all
As if she is just forgettable
You can't help it if you forget
She is use to it, it's understandable
It still hurts her nonetheless
There's a mansion on a hill
I've seen it numerous times
I've never been inside
It's said to belong to an old woman
Who is very selective
in who enters her domain
Either you're an insignificant servant
And you slip inside
Through a back door
A tiny molecule diffusing
from high to low concentration
Or, you're a personal servant
Then, you gain special access
Still, through the back door
Diffusing through osmosis
After that are ordinary guests,
aided by the butler
through the front door
Molecules carried or channeled
Welcomed by a great procession
Through a special VIP door
invited by the madam
with great effort
From low to high concentration
Requiring added energy
But despite this selectivity
of who can and cannot enter
That old mansion on the hill
And the jobs it provides
Is essential to the livelihood
Of the people in this town
Just like the cell membrane to our bodies
I tried another science analogy one. Personally I like my amino acid and fats ones better but I don't know. We'll see.