Hey everyone. This is my first post here. I had written a poem about the pain that I felt a couple of years ago after my first attempt, and I recently came across it again. I remembered this poem and how it encapsulates how I'm feeling right now. For those of you who maybe aren't able to find the right words to convey how you feel, I guess this poem may help you feel heard, as it did for me. If it doesn't, I just hope you don't completely hate it.
As an arrow leaves the bow,
Furious at first, but losing speed;
I turn to my only escape,
The only thing I'll ever need.
Of peace, grace, and satisfaction, I desire,
That seems only to accompany stillness;
These are prerequisites for life; but in it,
Prove their utter uselessness.
Worthlessness prances in my veins,
With apathy, hatred, greed in my mind;
Selfishness takes over my indifferent eyes,
Breaking my heart, breaking its shine.
And so the blade cuts deep into my arms,
Burning, clawing at my paper skin;
The flowing river of vibrant red,
Brings all the lost ecstasy within.
Calming waves of unconscious dreams,
Rush through the final blinks of my eyes;
"Life is a precious gift, you fool!"
Shout those immersed in sheer lies.
This existence of mine is flawed,
An anomaly in a perfect crowd;
And so I descend; I fall; I drown,
Finally making only Death feel proud.
As an arrow leaves the bow,
Furious at first, but losing speed;
I turn to my only escape,
The only thing I'll ever need.
Of peace, grace, and satisfaction, I desire,
That seems only to accompany stillness;
These are prerequisites for life; but in it,
Prove their utter uselessness.
Worthlessness prances in my veins,
With apathy, hatred, greed in my mind;
Selfishness takes over my indifferent eyes,
Breaking my heart, breaking its shine.
And so the blade cuts deep into my arms,
Burning, clawing at my paper skin;
The flowing river of vibrant red,
Brings all the lost ecstasy within.
Calming waves of unconscious dreams,
Rush through the final blinks of my eyes;
"Life is a precious gift, you fool!"
Shout those immersed in sheer lies.
This existence of mine is flawed,
An anomaly in a perfect crowd;
And so I descend; I fall; I drown,
Finally making only Death feel proud.
