@writersnetwork@mirakee Sometimes we think that it's our fault to be done that to them. Sometimes we think that it's the best decision for us to move upon for them. The absolute feeling is when you realize that all you had done for them is actually a zero balance for them. Without them knowing, without their knowledge, talking, sharing time, etc.. Giving more than a hundred feelings hopes laavs..beyond my breathe that I breathe in a day.. It's my imagination and expectations about them- BEYOND MY BREATHE(INHALE AND EXHALE).. In each and every single inhaling and exhaling there is something noticable in me The moment which iam passing with.. Whether it's a good or bad mood, my breathing cycle also has a rhythm to it! Always waiting for a single response or something that's you can't express but you're forever held long like a wish turning into reality. ❤ But why can't we regret all those things like awaking after ignoring all those stuffs and homeworks in your head? ♀️♀️ And the answer is you can't until you get a second chance to regret all these poor wishes like the same homeworks you always forget to done and after the scolding of teachers or when your vision turn into reality, you would have the courage to change the impossible things whom you can never leave into possibilities! and that's " LIFE " :SOMETHING THAT YOU HAVE TO EXPLORE AND YET THERE'S TIME FOR YOU TO EXPLORE PEEPS:) #mirakee#mirakeans#laav#explore#achusquad#moody#hopes#expectations
Three nights ago, I killed myself in an attempt to no longer feel any pain. I woke up in an unnamed bed with white linen tucked under my legs, a bed bearing intense fragility but creaks when you move. I woke up with my eyes closed; a void-less haze of all those things I didn't know I loved. I walked down the stairs and watched people mourning over my death. They chattered in their ears about everything I won't get to witness. I glanced at the vase of dandelions on the kitchen counter, my leftover food that I refused to eat yester-night, my blood stained white shirt which I wore on my 18th birthday. I watched the telephone rang as people passed from the hallway and wondered who it might be? For the first time, I wasn't nervous among the crowd. I no longer have to answer any question, or think what should I reply? I walked towards my father's room and watched him lying on the floor with his hands tracing my picture. I wanted to tell him, "It isn't your fault" or to remind him of my school project which he promised to help me with or to tell him I've an extra class tomorrow, I won't be home. I walked back and looked through the window and watched my neighbor's dog playing with his ball, a few feet apart from the fence. I wanted to pat him and tell my neighbors how grateful I'm for them to be living next door. I soaked that rising sun but couldn't feel the warmth, I watched the half-hidden bird in the shrubs staring back at my cuts. I watched an elderly man reading the news of my death on the front page of a newspaper. I watched the school bus driving past me remembering I no longer live here. I watched my friends read my letters while I tucked their laundry. I walked in your room and found you listening to my voicemail on repeat. I watched rain falling dismally against the window panes and wanted to brew coffee and sit by the window with you and tell you how much I missed you.
I wanted to rewrite every poem in which I failed to love all that I had. Three nights ago, I killed myself in an attempt to no longer feel any pain. I woke up and learned to love who I was.
Inspired by: The Morning After I Killed Myself | A Poem by Meggie Royer
Know that you're loved, you're worthy of everything. No matter how hard life gets, things do change. This is me explaining all that I did after I killed myself and how badly I wanted to relive my life. By ending pain, know that you'll end everything else too. Never give up!
Your love is pure and selfless, but I'm weak and helpless. The barriers of caste and creed, and the fetters of race and breed will never let us be together, We can't ever snap that tether I'll have to nip my love in the bud or drown in the pool of your blood. The so-called protectors of culture would skin you alive like a vulture. I'm a prisoner in a golden cage. I fear for our lives and I lack courage Forget me dear, I'm a slave here Go away from this inferno of fear