I is for In the blood

Via Pinterest. Artist unknown.

In the Blood

By Zoha

There is something about the blood.

I don’t know what it is but I am drawn to it

The sight makes me happy

My heart beats faster in my chest

There is something about it

That makes it so I can’t rest

I love the smell

The feel

The taste

I love how it looks sliding down your shocked face

Nothing brings me more pleasure

Nothing can compare

Maybe that is the reason why

I ended up burning in hell

A/N In the Blood is my favorite phrase. So sorry if I use it a lot in my writing. You will survive.

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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.

D is for Destined

I am having a bad time keeping up with this this year. Maybe I am destined to fail. I have to try my best but I feel as though it isn’t good enough. Maybe it is because I am trying to write about something that is still so fresh in my heart. I have lost so much these past few years. I want go say goodbye but I don’t feel as though I am strong enough.

C is for Cure

Decribe what makes you whole and I will do my best to destroy it.

-Words Said to a Lovers Captive.

I know what it is like to bleed. I know what it is like to crave the pain. I don’t know what it is like when it is the only thing keeping you sane.

My head hurt so bad right now. It feels as though something is crawling in my skull. Ripping me apart from the insides and pushing itself behind my eye balls. I can feel it’s slow decent into my organs. Slowly devouring me and yet I still breathe. It is so very painful and seems never ending. I am not really sure when this feeling started. I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t there.

I want it to stop but…I am not even sure if I will know how to love without it.

B is for Blush

I am not sure how old I was when I loat my first friend. I know I was fairly young and the idea of death wasn’t really big. I knew people died but it didn’t really mean much. Death was final and yet not final at the same time. This may have been because I went to my first funeral when I was around two years old.

I remember the casket clearly. Or as clear as a possible two year old can. It was white…maybe pink. So very very tiny. It held the body of a young girl who had died in her sleep. She seemed big to me though I have been told that the girl was around my age.

Her casket was tiny but she appeared so big.

I remember dancing and playing in the aisles as people cried. There was so much crying going on. I didn’t know this girl…it wasn’t until I was older that I realized I never would.

As I aged I went to a lot of funerals. Never again a child and nearly always males. The female line of my family tends to live forever it seems. I only have one grandfather who is still alive. I have lost many uncles and great uncles and great great uncles. And make cousins…yes…I have lost plenty of those as well.

But

That casket.

That tiny casket with the not so tiny girl. She has always stuck in my mind.

I am not sure if I was related to her. My mother doesn’t like to talk about her much since she was born the same year as my older sister. I think maybe even just hours apart and at the same hospital. I think it makes my mom feel guilty that her child lived while the other ladies child did not.

I am not sure though. I have only met the mother once. I remember the hungry look in her eyes every time she glanced at my sister.

As a kid I figred she was some creepy lady. As in adult I understand. I understand her looks and shaking hands as she patted my sisters face. I understand why she ignored me. I understand why her and my mother walked on egg shells when they spoke. I understand it all to well.

See while I have never lost a child I lost a friend at a very young age. I have lost siblings. I have seen friends cry after they spoke of the children they had lost.

I have seen blushing brides with a baby bump turn to tear stained widows with scars.

I have seen it all and more.

So, while I have never lost a child, I can still grieve with them. I can hold them close and understand. Maybe not fully but enough to be there when needed

A is for Accend

You know what, it didn’t happen. I refuse to believe it happened!

Lovely Ascension

By Zoha Lixue

Moments ago we spoke

We talked

We laughed

We planned

We figured the next day we would do it all again

But then I got that call

Lost it all

Whispered pleas

‘Come on Jess, it wasn’t your fault

How could you have known

You are not to blame,

Sure you didn’t get to say-‘,

What! No!

It didn’t happen

Fuck goodbyes

I refuse to acknowledge such lies

I can’t wait for you to walk through the door

A smirk on your face

Laughter in your eyes

It is lies

All fucking lies

Please don’t make me say goodbye