QUERENCIA || prose/poetry

INTRO : 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐆

╰┈➤

APRIL : 20th' 21

ok, this is fucking exhausting.

hating you with every breath
requires effort that
i cannot afford to give.
i'll be gentle with myself,
this time around i feel
like it's my time to heal.
maybe if i repeated it enough,
i'll be able to finally live.

╰┈➤

OCTOBER : 12th' 21

i wish there was a guidebook
that could hold my dark thoughts,
spill secrets of the steps to take,
whisper soft rules for this broken-hearted,
mapping out the messy journey
through the shadows, out of this maze.

i still feel like a tortured animal thrashing inside the jar you caged.

i wish i hadn't grown so skilled
at weaving lies to hide the ache,
masking the fractures underneath --
is i learned to betray myself,
tossing hints like a plea,
like breadcrumbs,
for someone to see
past this facade.

╰┈➤

OCTOBER : 20th' 21

i'll free me, you'll see,
with any means necessary.
you won't be the reason
i hate my poetry.
i am exhausted!
this burden is too heavy.
i can't carry it anymore.
healing sounds liberating.
i'll see if i can swim.
i'm so used to drowning, now
even the water knows my skin.

╰┈➤

DECEMBER : 26th' 21

i'm tired of how you reside
in every last chapter
of all my poetry books.
i am tired of never being
able to sleep or cry.
i stay restless but this time
i'm gonna heal my wounds,
this time i'll wipe my tears
before they dry,
this time my lips won't
turn blue.

i don't want to end
my struggles and
healing process with
your spineless act of violence.
you've made me suffer
enough for a lifetime,
i don't have any more patience.
i am working on
my betterment
continuously.
my aches are much more
precious than your cowardice.

i owe the relief,
i owe the peace,
to every version of me
who withstood the flashbacks
and your memories.
even if i don't heal
i'll make sure i'm enough
to fight off the demons
that wear your face
to terrorise me.

maybe the next chapter
i write will be your final
and i'll know what to do
about your greed.
maybe, in a while, i'll figure
the way out of this maze
to finally read your decree.

╰┈➤

FEBRUARY : 23rd '22

i'll find all the marks on my lungs
from when you had tied them
with my veins,
clear the smoke and
soothe them free from your touch,
i won't let you set me ablaze.

i am done with
all these nightmares --
i want to fucking heal!
the heavy breaths and
quiet screams of betrayal,
the sleep no longer holds me.
the remembering feels tedious,
guess i am quite bad at healing.

my hands are on the bandages
instead of the salt i usually thrust
into my wounded limbs,
spending my nights wondering;
if i prayed long enough and
hard enough for some relief,
will He grant it to me?

i am working on;
my imperfect prayers,
my night terrors and
my inconvenient
willingness to die.
i stopped thinking of;
your ugly fingerprints,
your hands on my skin
and your whiny voice.

╰┈➤

MAY : 12th' 22

this hatred drains me.
i want to heal.
i know i deserve to heal
but this struggle is all
i ever felt and so
i'm afraid of what
the forgiveness will bring.

even if i let go and forget,
even if i let myself be gentle,
what soul would understand
my grief?
this hatred drains me.
but i can't stop hurting.

╰┈➤

JANUARY: 12th' 23

i can't cultivate such mercy.
my faith is not brave.
i am not forgiving.
i'll carry the ache.

╰┈➤

AUGUST : 2nd' 23

i have around 18 drafts
dusting away --
the written testimonials of
my numb eyes staining
the way you had me
trapped for years and
running through a maze --
crestfallen cause you had
my reality, and you had it
bruised from the mere
mention of your name.

when someone asks me
i'll just act confused,
i won't name you or
let your name be associated
with what i've grown into,
if forgiveness is how i'll let go
then i don't want it.
i've been burning all my life,
i can endure it till
you're in this hell too.

╰┈➤

NOVEMBER : 26th' 23

if my forgiveness is how
you'll be held accountable,
then here you go --
i chose to be at peace and
i set myself free from
this graphic truth.
these are the attestations
of how i believed
and what i've endured.

every word of your countless
acts of blasphemy
that burned into
my cheeks as lava tears,
i've written almost every night
of your greed, you deranged little piece of weakling,
but i promise,
this book will be the last
where i ever mention you.