There: skin dull and purple.
Here: I feel the ache, coloured blue.
Each one is wanted,
each one is displayed.
They have been earned.
I am able to take the pain,
I am able to endure the anger,
I have taken what was given.
I remain and the fury has been silenced.
Just some thoughts on how I felt when I was younger although I would probably feel the same if I were to do this again.
I’m feeling pretty low,
Just feel adrift and stuck and don’t know which choice to make.
So I make no choice essentially,
the coward’s choice.
Looking at the thin strip of red-
barely visible, already fading-
I feel proud?? As though I have been resisting for so long, such an age and I finally managed it. I achieved a mark.
Albeit only a sliver, a skin scratch, one without blood
It gives me hope that there can be more
(A return to the past)
And maybe something deeper, one which will drip.
Something I’ve just written, a letter to myself.
As the sun tore through the clouds
It bled orange into the morning sky
While I stood idly by
Bearing witness to the silent death of the night.
— The End —