Maybe I should just **** myself. Maybe thag will make you ******* happy. It is always my ******* fault. My ******* flaws. I cannot take anymore. You say I was the worst mistake you ever made. You repeatedly tell me I'm useless, fat ugly and that I should die. You don't think twice before saying such hurtful words. If the one person who is supposed to love me no matter what calls me such things, maybe I really should just **** myself because life is not worth living. **** her. **** this **** because I am done b

Why do you hate me just because I am not the same gender as you?
Why do you hate me just because the complexion of my skin pigment is darker than yours?
Why do you hate me for not praying to the same God as you?
Why do you hate me for these man-made territorial boundaries I live within?
Why do you hate me because I love someone who is of the same gender as me?
Why do you hate me for something I cannot change?
Why do you hate?
I'll wonder why,
but I'll get no answers.
I'll continue to live in this hateful world.

I'm
F
  A
     L
        L
           I
             N
                G
Through thin air,
Nothing is suspending me.
Falling.
Falling
No one notices.
And then,
I'm gone.
*Fallen

Technically, we are all dying.
We'll die eventually, in 80 years, in a month, in a day.
We all die.
Truth is, not all deaths are equal.
That homeless man on the street?
He died yesterday.
Not a single soul mourned.
But that famous actor who died because of a drug overdose?
Yeah, millions mourned, though they did not know him.
Some deaths hurt you more than other deaths.
Just like how his death hurt me.
He didn't die per say, but, he died on the inside.
That killed me too.
Eventually everyone dies.
Everyone will just be a memory and after that, nothing.
But I don't want to just be a memory.
I don't want to be nothing.
I want to impact lives.
I want to stay alive in the work I have done.
But.
Everyone will be a memory.
Just like how you will forget about this poem five minutes after you read it.
One day the earth will forget me.

She played music to her wrist every night.
Blade to wrist, blade to wrist.
A musical of sorrow,
of tears.
Pushed past breaking point,
no where to go.
She feels like she is suffocating,
dying on the inside.
So, she cuts.
She cuts to breathe.
To get away from her overbearing parents.
To get away from the homework.
She cuts.
Every time she cuts,
it's like she's cutting me too.
I love her so much, she's like my sister.
Knowing that I can't do anything to help her **** me.
If you die, I'll die with you.
Maybe just not in the same way you die.
I'll die on the inside.
That's the worst kind of death.
But,
I've lost so much.
I don't want to lose you too.

I feel so helpless.
Comforting you.
Telling you I'm here for you.
All behind the screen.
I wish I could reach out and grasp onto your hand,
and pull you out of the pit that is your soul.
Please don't sink deeper.
Reach for my hand.
Take it.
I know I'm behind a screen but I'm trying,
desperately to save you.
Save you before you sink deeper.
Don't leave me!
Don't you dare!
Hang on please, I'll help you.



Hello?


*Hello?

Everything,
blown out of proportion.
Is not being able to print something a reason for you to cry?
Does it allow you to shout at your mother?
You rude *****.
She does everything for you and you can't be appreciative.
She may irritate you to no end.
She irritates me too.
But, there is never a valid reason for you to shout at your mother.
Your mother.
The only person who'll love you unconditionally.
So, shut your mouth.
Have some respect and stop crying for every single thing.
*God!