Self-destruction isn't just slits on arms and poison and jumping off rooftops, is it? It is in the tear stains on your pillow each morning. It is the faraway look in your eyes. It is the loud music that drowns away your screaming and sobbing. It is lying awake night after night, staring at the ceiling.
You lock away the pain and the guilt in some far corner of your soul, where no one can see it. You are glass shattered into diamonds. You flash sugary smiles. You'll carry graveyards on your spine till you can't handle it anymore and you'll fall. And the dark circles underneath your eyes will slowly suck your soul in like a black hole.
Life will toss you around like you're a rag doll and wound you all over. Life will push you around and knock you down over and over again. But knocking the wind out of you is the only way to remind yourself how much you love the taste of air. You'll feel like you're caught in a storm, surrounded by destruction and rain. But I'll tell you, my dear, that a storm's just excited rain. It'll soon drain itself out and leave a rainbow in its wake. So stick out your tongue and taste Life's bittersweet flavour while you still can.
Look up at the sky, at the twinkling stars, so many of them that you'll run out of numbers before you can finish counting them all. Look at them. Look at the big, vast Universe around us, engulfing us in a dark blue blanket. There is just one of you out there. And you have no right to deprive the universe of the breath taking beauty that is you. You have no right to make the Earth miss the feel of your weight, to make the wind long for the feeling of ruffling through your hair, to snatch away our privilege of hearing your melodious laugh.
The moon sneaks beside you every night and dances upon your face, praying that you'll still breathe tomorrow, wishing that you'll outshine his glow the next day. And the day after.
You are precious.
You are loved beyond words.
You are important, because the universe will collapse without you.
So breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Life will be magical again.
YOU ARE READING
Silhouette of the Soul
Poetry"Closed in a room, my imagination becomes the universe, and the rest of the world is missing out." Here's a collection of my mindless meanderings, midnight musings, poems, rants and random thoughts. This is all the stuff I think of while sitting i...
