italianwoman

This is my Fight

This is why I do what I do.

This is why I fight to pull through.

Being a statistic sounds fine to me,

But I don’t want my family to see

My body on the floor,

My blood on the door,

My head in a rope,

Cuz I didn’t know how to cope,

With the searing pain burning inside,

That I’ve been trying forever to hide.

I can’t even leave a note;

No clue what I woulda wrote.

I’ve seen those kinda notes already.

Her writing was smooth and steady.

She poured out her heart;

Told her story from the start,

Told us all why she made her choice,

Why she had chosen to silence the voice,

The voice in her head screaming “Die!”

This is it, this is why,

I fight to hold myself together,

I fight to make my life better.

I can’t leave you all in pain.

I can’t let you go insane,

With grief over my death,

Hoping for another breath,

As I lie there for the world to see;

A statistic, a suicide, an awful tragedy.

I can’t do it no matter how I feel.

I have to keep focused on what’s real.

Reality and hallucinations combine,

Each mixing and crossing the line.

Confusion inside me, hurting my head;

Lying still for hours alone in my bed.

Depression is curable they say,

But I’m past the point of caring anyway.

It’s so dark when I close my eyes,

I feel at peace; I can escape the lies

That force themselves into my mind,

Making me stumble, making me blind.

But I can’t go through with it,

Because the reasons why, you'd never get.

You don’t know how I live each day...

Praying for night so I can slip away

To my safe place in the back of my mind

Where people are honest, sincere, kind.

Where everyone understands me,

Where everyone is safe and free.

I’m still here, I’m still breathing.

Anxiety I know is just a feeling.

The pain inside is real but there is a cure.

I will find it! Of its healing my soul I’m sure.

Days will pass quickly as I make up time...

Time that was lost as I lived as a mime,

Unable to speak, unable to express

My hearth ache and my distress.

This is me now as I sign off farewell

I’m gonna fight so hard , I’ll burn down hell.

 

 

Comments3

  • jarcher54

    You certainly no longer live as a mime. You express yourself exquisitely. It's clear that you are intensely living these lines, but at the same time you are crafting them cleverly and deftly. So I am a little confused, which is a good thing in poetry sometimes. I thank you especially for these lines:

    I can’t even leave a note;
    No clue what I woulda wrote.

    For me, art is not really art without courage. I find a lot of bravery in this piece.

    • italianwoman

      Thank you so much for this comment. I don’t even understand my own writing. I write these when I’m living those emotions and then later when I’m feeling better I read what I wrote and have to try to figure it out. It’s confusing I’m sorry.

    • L. B. Mek

      'The pain inside is real but there is a cure.
      I will find it! Of its healing my soul I’m sure.'
      A rapturous inking of undeniable will, glowing with fervent ambition. Your voice can empower so many others and by so doing, heal all that anguish you have buried within.
      Please continue to write and perfect you art, you have a wonderful gift.

    • Goldfinch60

      You have overcome it so many times now and each time you get stronger, may that strength increase within you and your life becomes full of joy.

      Andy



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