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I'd feel like a stranger at my own funeral-
who's that in the box, dressed better in death
than I ever managed in life?
Better than my quiet attempts-those empty rehearsals
at suicide.

Was this the last chance I had left?
Even in death, my voice isn't heard-
nor the screaming ones trapped inside my skull.
Even my ghost wouldn't believe it's dead,
still hoping the lives I tried to save
might pay my way past the gates,
buy out my debts.

But what if there's no heaven waiting?
What if another kind of hell greets me instead?
What if I never see my old friends again-
never laugh without fear,
never smile without pretending?
What if I never stop
being so ******* afraid
so strangely ashamed
to feel nothing,
to be numb to even shame itself?

All I wanted
was to be born again-
not into some perfect life,
but one that wouldn't lead me
back to searching for another end.
And isn't it strange-
how only in death do we see our regrets
with such clarity?
Because there's nowhere left to run from them
once we get
to the end.
ash May 24
i've used pain to combat grief
perhaps i'll forever be a broken radio,
humming the same old tune
on the same old default settings.
no one to repair, not one soul to listen.
but i promise to play that random night
when u need the same old comforting,
the same old recurring.
Lalit Kumar May 3
I cut my hair today and you'll never know,
I held it together in that salon,
but I cried the whole way home, they told me life would go on,
but I wasn't prepared for what that meant,

crying at every change whether it's your hair or losing friends
you cry because it hits you,
you're still growing up,
and you have to do it now without someone you really loved,

little things will happen,
and big things will too,
and every time I will look to the sky,
and hope you saw them too,
I go over the list in my head every single day,
all of the things you'll never know,

things I'll never get to say, like I cut my hair today,
and when I looked in the mirror,
I loved the girl I'm becoming and hated that you'll never meet her.

— The End —