Warnings: mentions of suicide.
~~
Dear Diary,
why am I like this? Why do I feel this way? How do you make it stop?
Dear Diary,
why is the dark comforting to me but the light so foreign and scary?
Dear Diary,
why is the feeling of damp cheeks so normal now?
Dear Diary,
why does the pain in my heart worsen everyday?
Dear Diary,
how do I keep up this act? How have I not broken down?
Dear Diary,
they hurt me again today. They didn't realize. They never realize.
Dear Diary,
the circles under my eyes have gotten worse and the pain from my heart has extended to every limb, every bone, every muscle.
Dear Diary,
why do I cover up my pain with laughter? Why do I smile even though I'm rotting? Why do I continue to walk on my broken leg? Why do I continue to cry with my dry eyes? Why do I continue to think with my throbbing mind?
Dear Diary,
will I ever find comfort again? Have I ever felt comfort?
Dear Diary,
why can I never find the energy to move? Why does it feel like there is no point?
Dear Diary,
they all say I should do it. Should I?
Dear Diary,
the only words I can bring myself to say are the programmed ones.
Dear Diary,
my teeth are rotted with the lies I've told. The sweet, sugary lies have left me broken, unmoving.
Dear Diary,
I'm going to do it. I've never once made a good decision in my life. All of them have led to failure. Maybe once, just once, this decision will be right.
Dear Diary,
Goodbye.
Dear Writer,
the wind may blow in your ears, screaming for you to jump. The honking of cars may have the voice of encouragement, urging you to do as the howling wind commands. The bay may seem inviting, welcoming you to join it. The waves peaceful and free from everyone.
But I must say, isn't it cold? The bridge is cold, the water lapping at the land is cold, the sand at the bottom is cold. All that would surround you is cold. Why give into such things? Why embrace the cold, hard bottom of the bay? Stay, my dear. There is so much warmth for you to discover. And just like the seasons, Winter will pass, the frost will melt, the sun will come out, the clouds will disappear. And just like the seasons, Spring will always be there, just around the corner. Isn't it worth it, my dear? Isn't the Spring worth it?
A/N: A little... Dark, I know. I wasn't very joyous, you could say, when I wrote this so it kinda depicts my mood in that way. Anywho, I hope you like my poem book!
~James
YOU ARE READING
First, Coffee
PoetryTo be honest, I am not the best at writing poems. But, I thought I'd give it a try to help me cope with some things. Most of said poems will be really sad. I'm sorry, they won't be as inspirational as I would hope. Here goes nothing!
