I was told

I was told a story about something painful. As if death is anything but.

There are times when hearing about a person dying does nothing for me. I have watched gory videos and laughed over creepypasta post while drinking my herbal tea. I have sliced my wrist and burned sins into my skin in hopes that it would all go away. Honestly, death is nothing but a friend.

Yet, there are times when I find myself crying over it. I do not understand how my greater craving can be my nightmare. Death astounds me with its grace and yet, here I am suffering.

A loved one has passed away and I do not know what to do. I do not know how to feel….

I am just numb to it all.

But everything I write suggest otherwise. I cant concentrate on school cause I begin to think about him. I begin to miss a man I haven’t seen in years. A man broken by a war I wasn’t alive to witness. So much so little kids had to stay silent in his presence. I miss him and I do not know why. He was the kindest man but I can’t remember a damn thing he did. I barely remember his voice and yet I miss him.

I regret the fact that no one trusted me enough to love him.

Because I can’t say I love a person I wasn’t given a chance to know. I hate myself for never reaching out. But how could I when every sound I made took him right back to the battle field.

I miss him all the same.

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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

Pretty hurt

I think about death a lot. I think about how beautiful it would be once it all ended. I am to weak to do what needs to be done though. So many conditions would need to met. I am so close though, so close to being free. I am already alone. I am a burden to everyone. My daughter needs a better mother. I am such a shitty friend.

I like hate. It aids in the process. One of these days I will be free.

I told my daughter I wanted to be a flower. They are fragile but powerful. I hope she will be ok when I am gone.

Just need that final push.

That one special thing to make it all ok.

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.