troubled poetess

how many more strands of my hair I am going to cut to comfort myself 
just because I could not wrap my neck with a tight rope
or just because I could not jump on top of the building
or drown myself in the water to forget my sorrows
or slit my throat or wrist
or drink alcohol till my kidneys give up
or smoke till my lungs cannot function anymore
or do drugs to stay high and make me insane

how many more poems am I going to write
just to be heard by those people who does not know how to listen
all they do is talk, assume 
they do not know how to ask
it was as if they know everything
well, in fact they do not

they just see the highlights
the behind the scenes
not the point of view
you just saw the tip of the iceberg
not the one that lies beneath it

you only know the illness
but never the ill feelings behind it
you only know how to assume 
not the sufferings I have been through

you only know when to blame when you did not like how I react
when I talk back, I was labelled as rude
but in fact, it was the tone that made me trigger and felt provoked
but you never watch what you say
you are never careful with your choice of words
you never know the pain I felt when you said that
I was born sensitive, gladly, because I know for a fact that I will never react the way you do

you only know the title of the song and the singer behind it
you only know the verse, 
not the hidden meaning behind it.

how many more times am I going to comfort myself
just because my parents are emotional parasites
but emotionally unavailable
remind me why I hate parties? all the people there are not my friends
they fake it.
I am the pity celebrant being pitied
instead of the one celebrating her birthday

how many more times am I going to endure the pain?
I asked for help, did you know what I get in return?
criticisms. I did not ask for lectures but that was what I got in return
their lectures are reminders disguised as insults
they act supportive and concerned but their words never quite matched with their actions.

I reached out my hand because I fell in too deep,
in return, I got pushed deeper
they made me into a laughingstock
made me felt overweight or underweight
but in fact, my weight is not suitable to the liking of my BMI
I felt unheard, my ideas were rejected
I suggested something nice but in return I get a bad review saying I never use my brain well
so, when they asked me next time, I kept my mouth shut
I got the skills, but I am still unseen
what am I going to do with my life, then?
cry in silence, talk to the Lord, surrender it all to Him.

by the grace of God, I survived. 
I endured it all for 25 years, 
but I got a way out of it alive, surviving.
If you could see my back, it has been filled with invisible patches and band-aids
invisible stitches God always mends from harsh truths
but it made me learn that God removed you from the people who hurt you, do not crawl your way back in their arms anymore.

be wiser, be better.