Screaming

I am afraid to vent

Cause you’ll grab a gun and your brain will splatter

And right in the same matter you’ll write

And repent

And ask me what I meant

As though it isn’t already to late

I lost a bet and you choice the date

To fuck it all up but blame me for the mistake

Because it is

A mistake

One that I am unable to accept as anything but my own

Cause your gone now

No one is home

All because I couldn’t vent

Couldn’t tell you what it all meant

When I would sign in pillow

Lie a little when you asked

grabbed a baseball bat to pass the time

As though all would be all right with a little fucking excessive exercise

It is my fault my mistakes my lost fate

That gave you a reason to choose that fucking date

Did you lose focus before you felt the beed to bleed

Leave me to grieve for things I can not see

I was already in pain so why the fuck did you leave

Did you think it will fix everything?

A repetition to the same problem

Now what am I suppose to do?

I can’t vent

Tell the world what I meant

Make them understand this mistake

For your sake

I am hope you are happy in that new place

E is for Enough. Part 2 of Grief ~Anger

Pretty angel

Make me bleed

Do you hate the world

As much as you hate me?

Is that what made you leave

Why you didn’t say goodbye

Is that the reason

You took your own life

Did I make you suffer?

Cause you to much pain?

Is that the reason decided to leave that day

Did it hurt?

Did you cry?

How did it feel when you decided to die?

I bet you wanted me to feel so sad?

Was it all apart of you plan

I bet you wanted me to feel so alone?

Did you mean to be gone so long?

What made you decide that it was ok

To bloody yourself beyond repair?

Did you assume that I would care?

What was flowing through your mind?

Did you want the world to leave me behind?

What made you do it?

Was it truly me?

You are dead now

But are you really free?

A/N

As I have stated before, I am actually pretty suicidal. To help combat that I write poems written as though I have died. It helps me see reality so to speak.

I feel the need to explain this one a bit just because of how uncomfortable it can make people. This is part of my stages of grief stories but in this one the person who is dead is trying to figure out why they did it. When they ask themselves if they hate the world then they do themselves they are basically saying that instead of living and punishing the world they jusf decided to end themselves.

There are so many routes this person could have taken and they settled on the final one. I may habe to rewrite this cause I just yawned and confused myself.

E is for Enough

I give up!

I fucking give up on everything.

Of course I am not enough. I didn’t get to say goodbye. You didn’t even give me a chance. You refuse to let me see you as you lay dying in your hospital bed.

You said I was like a granddaughter to you yet you wouldn’t see me at the end. Told the world that you cared. I am sure that is not what you meant. You were ashamed of me weren’t you?

You truly hated me! How could I have believed… You LIED to me. To my little girl. To her you were her world. She looked up to you.

I did too.

Now you are gone

What the fuck am I suppose to do??

Who will be proud of me now?

Who will tell me it is ok?

Who will sit there and just let me vent, every freaking day. Why did you leave?

You were suppose ro be around forever. You promise to see me do better…

But you left me…

You left me alone

And not even a week later he followed you too.

You were family.

I was suppose to make you both proud.

Just

I promise to better

Please come back home.

I will go to church every Sunday. I won’t question a thing. I will be a better mother. I will smile on command. I will get a job and go to school. I will do it all and more.

Just please please call me so I can walk out that door and see you.

Please let me make you proud.

I know you are gone now

I just handle it right now.

24 ways to say goodbye

In my young years I have lost many friends. Some I still think about daily while others I think about whenever I open up a year book. Every last one of them meant something to me. They are cherished and still so very loved. I never got to say goodbye. I want to try this month. I want to try and show them how much they meant to me. Even though they are not here I want to give them a proper send off.

My Space queen

My Leader

My Commander

My family

All my friends

All deserve to be remembered.

This month I hope to make them all proud in the only way I know how.

This is the theme I will try to stick to. Please bear with me this April as I say goodbye in 24 different ways.

In sickness and in health

Warning :self harm, suicidal ideation, bulimia, anorexia, mental disorders.

I got sick today. Like really sick.

And I know what you are thinking, why the hell did I just tell you about my five min date with the butt throne.

Well my dear people I am telling you this because it made me feel good.

Yes as I sat there puking my guts out all I could think of was

‘This isn’t so bad at all. A few months of this and I can finally be pretty’

Even know I sit here trying to make more come up because I want to lose this weight. I want to be skinny because to me that equals beauty. Now I do not hold this standard to everyone. People can be beautiful no matter what their size may be but I can’t. I will never be beautiful. I will never be someone who people want to give seconds looks. I am barely someone they want to see at the corner of their eye.

Not to say I believe me to be disgusting but I do find myself to be distasteful…borderline disgusting.

I hate myself so much that for a mins while getting sick I wanted to keep doing it. I wanted it all to go away. I kept thinking about all the disgusting foods I can shove down my throat just to have a reason to puke.

So I can be skinny

So I can be beautiful.

I will like to make a point to say that I also have the flu or a cold..whatever sickness this is I have it.

So I did not set out for today to puke up my delicious chicken tortilla soup with extra sour cream combined with a to die foe root beer float. I would have actually liked to have been able to digest that, thank you very much.

But once it happened, I felt relief. I felt alive.

This reminded me of something though. It reminded me of my addiction to cutting.

Both of these cause me great pain but in the end they bring me the greatest pleasure.

Through the pain I know that I am alive. I feel powerful. I feel beautiful. I feel as though I can finally see the light. Do you know how addicting it can be to have all that when your normal is constant darkness and paranoia. To finally have some clarity.

I can see the colors!

All the pretty pretty colors.

Sadly,

I know how destructive this can be. I know what it looks like for someone to starve themselves to lose weight. I know what it looks like for someone to accidently kill themselves.

I know the end result of my addiction.

So I don’t follow through with my temptations. No matter how much my mind tells me that I need to.

Instead I wait with anticipation for the next I cut or burn my skin by accident. I await that moment when I can spend hours in the bathroom due to some illness.

I no longer inflict these wounds on myself.

Instead I wait for someone else to do it for me.

All praise mother Gaia and karma.

May they serve me the pain I need to stay alive.

Say it with me

I like the words low self-esteem. That makes it seem like there is hope. That one day it can come back.

Now zero self-esteem, that is a different story. That means there is no chance of it coming back without some outside help.

But how can we go about life lacking it and expect others to help us. We are always being told that if we do not love ourselves then no one else will love us. So what if a person hates themselves with a passion, does that mean that they will always be alone?

I like to think that there is a chance they can be happy. It will just take someone from the outside to help them see the light.

She used to be hopeful

She used to try

She used to smile

Once upon a time

A bright future a head of her

But her head in the clouds

She used to be normal

Then she was found

In a backend ally

With her knees on the ground

Surrounded by people

But lost in the sound

She used to be everything

She used to be love

Now she is nothing

Someone we all judge

Needle in her arm

And hate in her heart

How did this happen

What tore her world apart?

She used to be helpful

She used to be wise

She used to be everything

In her loved ones eyes

But now she is found

Laying in the ground

Surrounded by people

But lost in the sound

Of her own imagination

Of her own mistakes

She used to full of life

And now she slowly breaks

Needle in her arms

Blood on her legs

Crawling on the ground

To get away from the people

That roughly surround

She wants to be lost

Stuck in her own sound

Not really untitled

Escape: a short and sweet poem by the petty poet production.

She sleeps by the window still

Hoping the cold will take her breathe

Not a day goes by that she doesn’t await this death

A sweet reminder of times that past

A goodbye forever to those who never had

An escape from the future of which she craves

A slow drag into a muddy grave

But, alas, she slumber on

Wishing to kiss death with all her might

Only to wake to the unforgiving morning light