The Falling Stars

⋆𝘚𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯⋆

One, remove every shard of glass

That's pierced you from beneath.

Two, read out what's written in them,

The stories that make you bleed.

Three, put these pieces aside safely.

You mustn't be pained by the same things repeatedly.

Four, wash off the blood on your feet.

Clean them, make them stain-free.

Five, you can't leave an open wound fresh,

So dry it ever so gently.

Six, why not dab them with a touch of antiseptic,

While you're reckless, they help prevent disease.

Seven, clutch them in your bare hands.

They once helped you move with such ease.

Eight, bandage them, in an attempt to hold together,

What's falling apart ever so slowly.

Nine , smile, believe that it'll be okay,

Everyone slips up, it's just your turn now, you see?

Ten, remember how you prayed,

That your future wouldn't be so dim and bleak.

Eleven, stay quiet for a while, because you too were shocked, 

When first you fell from the higher branches of the tree.

Twelve, take a pill or two, the pain will go away.

Maybe you'll have enough strength to breathe.

Thirteen, cry, because you know that more than the pain, 

It's just your greedy need for others' pity. 

Fourteen, look at yourself in the mirror,

And think, 'Four years ago, I'd have been shocked that this was me.'

Fifteen, look at the footprints behind you,

The blood, from when you fell onto the broken glass underneath.

Look at the mirror yet again,

That's what you deserve, for behaving despicably.

Look at the empty boxes,

Seems like one or two pills didn't suffice.

Look at the bottom of the tree,

Know that now, this is where you're going to live your life.

Look at the child's gravestone,

You killed her, do you feel guilty?

Walk in circles, because they'll complain, 

If you stay still in one place, they'll call you "lazy".

Are your bandages falling off?

More than the scars, fear the ugly truth that's been revealed.

You're feet still hurt? Well, that's a shame.

Nobody will wait for you, you have to reach the top of this ever-growing tree.

You know what? Forget it.

You'll never make it, so stop trying to dream.

Why not dig the ground while you're still here?

The grave's the only goal you'll ever reach.

Sit there, with rain beating you down.

Sit there, scream at yourself so you won't hear anyone else's scream.

Sit there, as every aspect of your life and future is bleak.

 Sit there, there's no point in scaling back up that tree. 

Sit there, all your peers are far, far ahead.

So just sit there, and pray you disappear with the falling leaves.

.....you're here where I am, watch as I blow out the only light near me

And wish me, I'm now Sixteen.

~LonelyComets

29.9.18

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Story in the form of le poem pt.3? i think?

Holy sheet.... well yesterday completely changed my thought process about birthdays :)

imma go try not to fail my exams tho... cya ^^

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