Breathe [Collection of Short Stories/Spoken Word]

Numbers

Wrote a poem based on the book Numbers by Rachel Ward :)

She didn't think she deserved it;

selflessness. 

It was as though she believed the fate of a human being was in her hands, every living organism, every single man - she hoped this was a joke from up above and lived in a trance.

She blames herself from God's job. As if running away from her own fate would create a path less blurry than the fog she was walking through right now.

She wanted to be loud, despite all the let-downs. Her life was disfigured. Left by her mother and real-life stories configured by a long-gone father.

Despite meeting a young man who would bring himself to her, she knew the date when God would force him to die.

Despite the consequences of a broken heart, she created art with the pieces. Sensing feelings she never knew she had, trying her best to wither away the bad even if the situation she was in was worse than what she was feeling, a heart like hers was not worth healing.

The numbers and her were one. She thought about a gun to her head, or perhaps a gallon of bleach to die on her death bed.

She didn't want her love to die.

She wanted the numbers to be a lie.

She crawled her way to the top of a building, hearing the screams of a familiar young man to come down. Hoping that he could bring himself to her one more time. . .

It wasn't supposed to be like this, she said.

Hoping her dates were a lie bred by Lucifer, one funeral morning she's the one throwing his ashes to the ocean floor.

Crying with poise, the numbers in her head were not a choice.