POP! POP! POP!
Goes your gum after a bad joke about my clothes.
POP! POP!POP!
Goes the skin on my wrist ripping under a blade forged from the heat of your hatred.
POP! POP! POP!
Went the bullets that nearly killed my uncle when i was 15
POP! POP! POP!
Go the bottles of booze i used to cope with every mean girl and funny boy who threw their anger at me.
POP! POP! POP!
Goes the gun that he held to his head when I threatend to leave
POP! POP! POP!
Went the blood vessels on my body turned to bruises everytime he kissed me with his fist
POP! POP! POP!
Goes the pill bottle i finally opened.
POP! POP! POP!
Went the pills down through my body
POP! POP! POP!
Went the ambulence doors and hospital machines.
Ding. Ding. Ding
New voicemail
Ding
New voicemail
"Yasa please pick up. "
"Yasa we're scared don't do anything rash."
Pop.
Go my eyes when i wake up in the hospital blanket.
Pop.
Go my eyes when i see someone finally cared.
Pop.
Went the light bulb of self hate and self doubt and suicide and abuse as it finally exploded and died.
Pop.
Went my light bulb of new hope as i felt warmth for the first time in years.
YOU ARE READING
Hyacinths & Biscuits
PoetryCarl Sandburg once said "Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits." Enjoy this collection of poems, text messages, diary entries and more. Starting from age 15, and continuing to this day.
