if i show you
will you understand?

how i've outlined these arms
vein after vein
where sunlight runs
i see only
lines to trace

i got a barcode on my wrists

scan me for the price
of beauty

i am as expensive
as what people think of me.

do you know what it feels like
to attach your worth
to weighing scales
and waists that never
slim down?

is this why they call them
shoulder blades
to cut through
your skin
to be called
"pretty"

thigh gaps that map
the distance between your legs
to make you
matter so much
you can't stand on your own
feet.

when you walk the shoes
we wear
will you know?

the path to be
called beautiful
is full of
self-hate

and we pay for that bill.

The days when the wind is a little chilly,
The days when time passes a little too slowly,
Are you there in the same place living the same life?
Or am I the only one who's stuck in what has passed?

Will you find me once again in under this sky
Or will memories of us be swept away like the sand in wind
These days life seems too harsh
Time unforgiving
Sweeping away everything it comes across...

These days life seems too forgetful
Time sweeps everything it comes across
Memories of us....
Now but a distant dream...

death is a sneaky person
he can snake tendrils into the folds of your brain
while you stare at a blank page
hoping the slithering in your head
is inspiration begging to be let into the empty space

the time between was a constant crime
perjury over and over to a jury of past selves
the slithering I felt at 14 became a buzzing by 21
and at 23, could cause hearing damage
I had to scream my inner monologue
just to hear myself

death and I walked together
and soon, his grip on me
transformed into my grip on him
holding on tight to what he promised me
"death," I spoke to my longest friend,
"won't you take me soon?"

those words became breakfast on hard days
lunch on long days
until it was dinner every night

I finally had the courage to look him in the eyes
so that I might see who I adored so dearly
his grip loosened on me to take down his hood
and I saw the life I hadn't led
every promise I never kept
every cut that ever bled
I saw a quiet somber in death's eyes
and I realized I had to let him go

with a sad smile,
I indulged my old confidante
and promised to live until he was ready
to walk together again.

He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come