“COLOUR BLIND”

I made it to part 10 of The Purge Series!!

In case you are new, (Hi btw), this series of poems is about living and dealing with mental illness and overcoming two decades of self-hatred. It came to life when I stopped writing like it was all rainbows and butterflies and started being honest with myself- that idea is what birthed this series. “The Purge”, as in, cleaning out what has been buried inside forever. Hope you like it! 🙂

(For anyone interested, I updated my About Page from a cringe-y 16 year old’s rambling old to a proper adult’s rambling. So check that out as well!)


“COLOUR BLIND”

Spread out your arms
the weight on your chest
is bringing you down

Look up to the sky
asking God why
Beg Him to forgive you
for being written in stone

You never went with the flow
and now you’re a river
making waves in the middle of a silent valley that He called beautiful.

Why couldn’t you grow into flowers?
Why did you have to be a garden of your own:
Home to thorns, and butterflies.

Oh I don’t know why
I can’t escape myself
God knows I’ve tried and I apologise,
I was never supposed to
spread my arms, wide
the weight on my chest is bringing me down

I let go and fly
And God says I’m beautiful
But maybe you are colour blind.

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“CRUELTY”- A LOVE STORY

love
Credits

How long will it take you to notice I’m  gone
How long till your heart is emptied out, like your empty arms
This is the last straw, the last firework shot up to the sky
In hopes that someone will see and come find me
I hope they will notice the shivers along my freezing skin
Hopefully they’ll have food and water and a blanket for me

I spent an hour telling myself I’m cruel
And it didn’t matter what you meant, what you said, even
The only voice was the one in my head
Cruel
For being sick
Cruel
For reaching out
Cruel
For putting you through the darkest paths I had to walk on; and you walked with me
Because I loved you and that
Was cruel of me.

But what is the definition of cruelty?

Is it my merciless cry for help
Knowing you cannot save me
Is it wanting you before me
Arms spread out, is it holding you
till you fall asleep?
Oh how cruel I am for loving every inch of you
How cruel that we made us all that we could be
You and I, that was the deal
Forevermore, we were sure
But how cruel are we to never give this up?
Is it cruel to love unconditionally,
in which case, we share the blame equally?

Or is it the wicked one
The shadow whispering from the reckless parts of me
The ones I still can’t control
“I’ll die of this I’m sure”, 
that’s all it says
and I promised I wouldn’t hurt myself
But it tells me I don’t need to, to die.

Just open your eyes! Your soul is gone;
And how long till they know
That when they hold you
Against their hearts
You stop the beating and burn them out?
How long will it take for you
to see the truth:
Nothing you do, matters. Nothing you are, matters.
Do not ever
touch love
ever again.

But they must have been right when they said that love saves your life
Cause all that keeps me alive,
is that I,
I love you,
Endlessly.


(More posts from this series)

“RELAPSE”

I have been quite lost from here lately, and it’s because I feel like I have fallen into a bit of a pit in life, and in my battle with depression. I really thought I was almost through to the end, but I have been experiencing some of the worst episodes despite having a lot of amazing things. (Including two people who have given me uninterrupted, unconditional love through all this, and that makes me feel guilty, I know it shouldn’t).
Anyways, I tried putting it into words, this is another part of THE PURGE SERIES, and it is called Relapse:


mroczny-aniol,-krew,-kleks-185924.jpg

I used to adore moonlight,
silver,
as it seeped into my soul
I loved counting stars
Drew constellations in the sky, tell me when
did that bubble burst?
When did I stop drawing hearts on my wrist
And lost count of the scars?

From the tips of my fingers all the way down to my toes
I am trembling,
Like a broken cloud that had forgotten
what weather it bore.
And the lightning, it strikes
Inwards,
because I told it to!
I cannot predict the storm, but I can deflect it to save you.

And I know that we’ve got love to give, I know you’re both here
But I keep seeing ships sink-
How long before our sails tear?
I am not one for surrendering but the voice in my head
says for all that you’ve lost, why not
this time,
you disappear instead?

I look around the empty room
The swollen dark red wound
I look at my empty hands, desolate,
and find tales of forgetting what I was born for
So I close my eyes
And imagine
Just for a moment
Being out. Out of this body. Out of the pain…
Tears roll down my cheeks and maybe
Maybe I wish I could,
but I don’t.

And in the end,
This
is what keeps us alive.

I take my life
and pull it back,
Inwards
I am not begging for any mercy.

“THE PICTURE OF ME”

Depression is a dish best served cold:

When the remnants of hope have become frozen icicles
on the porch ceiling
When the sun has stopped trying to shine through
When the day looks like night
and the night looks like death
When your demons are free to howl
As wolves on a frozen mountain top.

And in that ice-cold, post-apocalyptic, abandoned town
You still live.

Can you imagine the what power runs through you
When you use your own warmth to melt every piece of ice?
Each wolf runs terrified of the fire in your chest
You turn the sun into a lamp and burn it with oil made from your (un)dying hope.

So can you imagine what power runs through me
There is no moving out of here.

-x-

Hello. I finally wrote the next part of The Purge Series. This is, embracing the reality of living with depression and being proud of yourself for making it all the way here.

“RUN!”

I have been feeling a bit extra jerky these past few days and I finally wrote Part 6 of “The Purge” series (yay). If you follow this blog you might know that The Purge is about my experience living with, and hopefully overcoming, mental illness, while also learning to accept my whole self- past, present and future.

The poem below is based on how when you find any kind of love and support while having a medical condition (in my case, a depressive disorder); it can be so overwhelming because you don’t think you deserve it and even worse, you have this overwhelming urge that before they wake up and realise how lousy you are, you should just get up, and

RUN!

Bang bang boom
Boom bang boom

After the crash I look at myself
Bruises and wounds,
Blood and debris,
Inhaling fumes.
I get up with a broken leg
Look behind and who
Is that, coming after me with a saw?
I hate that it looks like you

So I start running
Running without shoes
Oh the blisters may be bleeding
But I’ll be safe from truth.

I run and run till winter comes
I don’t stop when my feet go numb
All I know to do
Is run
I know I said I loved you
But what could I do
I was afraid
I am afraid
And running is all I want to do.

Running when the spring flowers brush against my ankles
Running in the summer heat, sweat
Dropping onto
The shadow I make for a moment
Before I run from it too, into

autumn leaves falling down
I’m tired but I can’t stop now
I have to get away from you
I have to find a way to
Protect this heart this body this mind
I have to take care of what’s mine
I have to get home…

Through seasons and  months
Of running from
The monters that make
My heart lose beats
And
My lungs forget to breathe
My eyes abandon sleep

Finally!
I get myself back home
Where else could I have gone
I ran right back to you.

“GAMES”

Below is part 5 of “The Purge” series.
This is the first poem I’ve written that talks about some part of the experience of womanhood as a whole, in terms of my own personal journey as well as the women I see around me in the world. I really hope you like it! 🙂


 

I am not a glorified playground-
easy to run all over.
I am not your sandcastle by the beach-
easy to wash away,
with a little bit of saltiness from the sea.

I will not be your battlefield!
To shoot who you want
with my mouth;
to slay men like you, for you,
with my smiles;
to stab to death
whom you owe debts
to,
with the touch of my fingers on their skin.

I will not be sold,
or bought,
or traded,
or advertised.

Shrinking,
to leave more space for your confidence
to fit in.
Your hollow pride,
from harming those who did not know how to fight…

Everything!

I punished myself for, for decades
ever since I learnt the meaning of punishment.

 

-II-

 

If you think my lips are sewn with battle cries,
think again!
I use each word I write
as rungs of a ladder, climbing up,
and over these walls of shame
that you had decided to lock me within.

I am tired
of men like you
who think I am their plaything
That I am a right
they were born with
and there’s nothing left,
of me to stop them.

You use me
and teach me
to be ashamed of it;
of everything I know you did.

I will not sit here washing away the stains
of my… being.
You do not get to escape, spotless.

These are not my sins,
not my stains,
not my cages,
not
my
shame.

Hereby, I return it all to you
whom it rightfully belongs to,
I quit your circus, your poker games
that only you could ever win-

Congratulations, on losing.

 

“THE PAST, THE PRESENT AND PROMISES”

Part 4 of “The Purge” series: 


 

I used to wear my halo
like the devil wears his pride
Well, look here, I broke it now
The truth, I will not hide.
No more never swearing
at assholes, no more smiles.
And when you say, ‘fuck you’
I say, ‘you’re too late to the party’

mmm…kay?

Did you think this would continue to rhyme?
No, it wouldn’t.

My slightly broken, slightly erratic,
badass-as-hell self, welcomes you!

This body is my turf now-
I will fill it with flowers,
paintings, and chandeliers made of dewdrops
… and healthy food maybe?
I will decorate the walls with awards:
“Congratulations on getting up today!”,
“Congratulations on working out!”
“Congratulations on not killing yourself, or wanting to!”
“Congratulations on making it this far”

I will tell it
that it does not have to bend, or break
every time somebody wants
to feed their ego with its cries.
You can go around me,
if I’m taking up too much space.

Now I won’t lie and act
like I don’t care anymore;
My heart still breaks
when a little kid fixes my car,
when babies are thrown away if their body parts,
do not conform to the rules of normalcy,
when you tell me that I’m
too damaged,
too erratic,
too caring,
too
much
me,

It stings.

And it stings most of all, to fight back.
It stings to let the light in
It stings to like being loved
It stings to not hate, loving me.

But watch as I do it any way.
For the darkness may be comfortable,
familiar,
even easy;

but the light,
oh the light!
When it runs through my veins like electricity,
I think,

I could do this forever,
And never get burnt.