#35 - Poetry #4
Posted Thursday, December 17, 2015 // 12:27 AM
it took me the blood running down my arms to realise
that it is not carving my skin
and slitting my veins open
with a razor blade
that i snuck from my father
is a form of self mutilating
it took me the emptiness that i felt inside my stomach to realise
that it is not starving myself
and skipping three meals a day
leaving my mother worried
is a form of self harming
it took me the cracking lines on the walls to realise
that it is not the several punches that flew
and leave my knuckles bruising
in your favourite colour
is a form of self injury
it took me the darkness in my room to realise
that it is not isolating myself
and pushing people away
by building walls around me
is a form of self destructing
it took me a few days and months and years to realise that it is
how the sound of your laughter
echoes through my mind when i'm alone
how the colour of my coffee that i make to keep me wide awake reminds me so much of your eyes
how the warmth of the sun feels so alike to how you wrapped me around your arms
the aches that i feel all over my body where you leave the marks with your touch
the glances every once in a while in the hall whenever we bumped to each other still gives me butterflies
the teardrops that fall every night before i go to sleep to the thought of that you are now happy with her
the emptiness that i feel days and nights of remembering how was it like to be loved by you
the happiness that has gone away once you left leaving me bleeding, empty, bruising, and in the dark
that is the biggest form of self mutilating, self harming, self injury, and self destructing.
letting you in was self mutilating.
falling in love with you was self harming.
putting you first was self injury.
giving you the control for my happiness was self destructing.
yet you told me to stop hurting myself.
but i just couldn't stop loving you.
don't you understand?
—L.D “just like how people are addicted to pain, i'm addicted to loving you.”
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