I witnessed a suicide of character.
My own.
I watched as the quiet girl with the bad hair, in the back of the class, who enjoyed keeping to herself and the library, grow defensive of her own self image.
I watched as the quiet girl turned into the mean girl,
as people gave her one reason after another to despise them.
I watched the mean girl become the lonely girl,
much like growing old, or tired.
I watched the lonely girl become weak because,
some things you exercise get sick, not stronger.
I watched while the circles below my eyes darkened.
Cuts on my arms dried, peeled, and repeated.
The words that escaped my lips lessened.
My existence became quiet.
Quiet like the tiny voice in your head,
in the background,
when you try to focus on living
and it tells you,
"it's pointless"
and you tell it...
you tell yourself...
FUCK OFF.
And when its finally too much
you-I slept.
Sleep; the closest thing to death,
when you're too weak to kill yourself for real.
As your friends watch as you conk out:
on the bus to school, in every class except the two you like, on the bus ride home,
and then you're home alone again...and what do you-I do?
Sleep
Sleep; the closest thing to death.
Yet, still your nightmarish realities are inescapable.
Strength is not obtained it is built, like a sloppy joe, or a wet sand castle.
Strength is slow, and painful, and rarely constructed with help unless it's asked for, but that never happened, because your-my cries were silent.
Strong, but often lonely.
Strong, often lonely, I survived.
Strong, maybe not always lonely, I conquered, I am alive.
-
Author:
Adrianna Kjeld (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 19th, 2017 01:42
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
Offline)
Comments3
Thanks ADRIANNA ~ for a very frank and challenging confession ! However the pleasure (hidden behind your almost smile !) and the unsuppressed twinkle in your eyes belies much of the angst you have expressed in your gripping poem ! You are much to young and sassy become a recluse ! Your poem depressed me ~ BUT ~ your photo lifted my Spirits that you have "moved on !" STRONG ~ maybe not always lonely ~ You conquered ~ YOU ARE ALIVE ~ Thanks for sharing ~ Thinking of You ~ Happy Hugs ~ BRIAN (UK)
Awe, thank you so much Brian, Happy hugs right back atcha.
I feel like so many others have been through this, and it is distressing, and hurtful, but 100% conquerable. Life is precious, especially if it turns out that we really do have only one.~ Adrianna (OR, US)
An incredible journey, Adrianna! Well written. Stay strong!
Poignant poem that many can relate to but only efficient writers like u can chronicle the soulful up to positivity and express so awesomely. ESP admire the last lines, the metaphor and poetics. But don't cut wrists, just bleed in ink I always advise. Kudos.
So nice to read from your pen again,
Do pls review my latest too.
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