When you talked to me I hope it bumped your confidence I hope my skin Made you feel like Adonis I hope I tasted exactly like Whatever you'd been missing I hope my makeup stained your t-shirt And you'll remember how You felt when I let you touch me For the very first time You'll remember it forever So help me God
So many years have gone by But I've been sitting at the table, stuck Looking for all my puzzle pieces And it's always incomplete You took every part of me And built your life's mosaic While im left Missing edges All holes in the middle
And I hope The next time you kiss her I hope it makes you sick I hope she tastes like venom And I hope she bites you back I hope you learn how bad it aches To stop your own bleeding To climb out of this pit Stacked high with ruined moments Soaked and steeped in blood for years
And I hope Most of all You crawl home on all fours Across miles of eggshells Like the ones you made me stand on Every minute Every day
I hope you someday have to wonder If you're full of dust inside And if they ever cut you open Would you feel it at all?
Because even though Every day I'm born again My cells are new. You haven't touched me.
You still haunt the empty spaces In the back of my mind Your fingers wrapped around my veins And held me down in place There's a scream in my mouth And it sounds like Alexander
And while I'm busy treading water And trying to survive There's so many people to talk to But nobody to listen When the pieces fit again, The puzzle is old and bored And everyone wonders Why it took me 10 years Just to lay a ******* outline
The truth is I've been missing the picture Since the day I let you in.
do you feel like an abandoned house? i swear sometimes it is just painful to breathe. i told him i felt daggers inside my lungs each time the air entered my body. air is life itself, all of us need it - but then why is my body rejecting it? because i am an abandoned house -my air hasn't moved for ages and it just rests - stale and comfortable. eating dust. creating these invisible angry daggers.
do you feel like you have been lying to yourself? lying is a comfort and a privilege that all of us can have.. which is a whole contradiction in of itself. i have been thinking about it quite a lot. i have been thinking about the invisible daggers in the air - they are impossible to clean nobody sees them. and they are so vengeful - a quiet sort of rage, caused by neglect.
I stood on the precipice One more step till my death I thought I will be gone But I had no other choice These little devils were pushing my back One last look at the river below No rocks to be seen just silver In which the sun was admiring itself like a mirror I told my fearful bodies lies That maybe, I’m jumping into the pile of tulips But I was still scared, I was only five or six Amidst the cries of boys telling me to drop I closed my eyes and took a breath and hopped 1, 2, 3 splash I opened my eyes and it was all dark Before I was pushed by water all the way up My clothed body tasted the water I saw the faces of my cousins, brothers and my father Smiling, cheering and laughing In peak of June, when summer couldn’t get any hotter We were on a picnic under the Royal Bridge In this glistening, cool water Where my mother was busy catching fish And then we had our home cooked meal Roast, Rice, Tea and Toasts
I still think about that Jump I made To do that again I went back to that Place I thought If I dive and never come back up again I will return back to those happy times So I stood on the precipice One more step till my death But when I looked down I can’t see any water Now It was all mud and puddles ‘’Why is it getting more hotter? It’s not even summer anymore Will I even succeed if I take a leap Will my bones and spine be crushed Finally putting me to sleep It’s not even a pretty sight The mud, the heat, the heap of muck’’ I was brought back to light I was brought back to life So many people are dying The Earth is dying So what’s to point of me trying To end what’s meant to go on The River under the bridge is gone But I must flow like it once did, I must go on
This poem is about fighting the thoughts of suicide and finding meaning in life