it's all on you in the end

TW :: heavy themes, dark imageries, sensitive topics, mild swearing.

Happy poems just don't get along with me :/

Edit: yes they still don't :D

              HOW TO LOVE YOURSELF

I

look yourself straight in the eyes

look into your shimmering irises, to see the years

of damage and existence you have given to yourself. broken collarbones healed, only to be replaced by rubber band patterns, so much so, that your soul is deeply pressed in the creased wilted pages of a dying book called i-hate-myself-forever-and-ever.

there is no bookmark of forgiveness signed by a neon pen named i-deserve-happiness, a tad too bright for your likes, to highlight the creases of this rustic weight that will transform into eulogies one day, because they are so deeply carved into your bark, your roots might have already accepted their past.

II

go to a punching bag and beat the shit out of it

you will know when your knuckles will bleed and all the pain and hurt will start leaking from the sockets of your eyes, you'll know it then in your cracked bones and stapled smiles, that you were destined to a path of loathing and self pity, because your wings were too high on rum and whiskey; of tales never meant to be spoken and words slipped past your woven ignorance.

they lost their sparkle of bedtime stories like your eyes lost sight of candle lit dinners in the last road-trip of haunted memories and marshmallows roasted over the fire of regrets and misery.

you hoard regrets like a criminal does mistakes on the run, the only difference being your bank balance filled with trips to purgatory and theirs being empty, a hole shot in the middle by the pistol aimed at your head.

III

hug yourself and cry your eyes out till you look like a haunted ghost

you knew the love that you felt, that danced around with you hand in hand, was like a dream so beautiful, enchanted and ethereal that you could always watch it from afar like a moon longing for its stars, but if it grazed your fingertips, as it does to all the fragile hearts, it would kiss them only to turn into ashes that fade away with the last whispers of spring.

You knew it in your being as you did the caffeine morning calls and night shifts of anxiety, you knew it because you were best friends with hatred, made pinky promises of a life together till infinity, because you are the illegitimate child of happiness and misery.

And they love you, for how could they not?

But they hate you, because that is all they have ever known.

IV

Feel the breeze, it is telling you to finally live

and finally, finally you meet the muse you have longed for your whole life, written love letters to, that were locked in your canary basement and danced with in the stillness of night composing poems and whispering sweet nothings, behind a golden door stood death with a smile tucked at its lips and an embrace scented of endless 'possibilities' and 'ifs'.

and you know, you finally met your match, because the red thread around your ring finger is no longer cutting the blood supply and your heart has at last started a war that it will never lose to your mind, again.

#listpoetry