Random Lil Things

Flowers//Pastel!Dan Poem

Flowers

Flowers are beautiful.
It's as if they smile so wide that nothing can upset them.
That's how some people think about me.
Flowers are gentle.
Their petals flutter gently as the slight breeze brushed against them.
That's what others were sure I was like.
They weren't correct.

I look soft in my pink sweater.
Like a cuddly marshmallow.
Oh how little did they know .
My short curly hair swept in the strong wind tangled in a pastel flower crown.
People looked at me in awe.
Oh how torn I was inside.
Like a bubble on a thorn, when will the pain subside.
I walk on the muddy grass. Not even feeling the time pass.

The things at home that happened.
It's like I never even mattered.
I can't take this anymore.
The pain made its way intoy my core, such a long time ago.
I need to leave.
But there's so many ways.
To say goodbye, to end my days.

Just one shot of a gun, I can't remember how these thoughts begun.

Just one jump off a cliff, and no more beatings 'til you'd be stiff.

Just one handfull of pills, and you know what it fullfills.

Just one rope around the neck, and you don't have to come back.

Just one jump infront of a car, and you won't live to see that far.

Just one cut to deep right on the vein, and you won't have to feel anymore pain.

There's so many ways.
Just one small choice and an ear to hear the truthfull voice.
It knows all of the ways to be set free, so why can I not put an end to me.

I'm just a mistake, that too small slice of cake.
The hideous dandelion that will flake away at the break of dawn.
Not the pretty one growing on your neighbour's lawn.

I skip along the empty path, as people smile at me admiring the beautiful, male flower.
But where was it heading to? Only I knew.
To my demise, and I didn't even have to think twice.
I look at the beautiful waves crash beneath me. I guess that it's time to see, where I was always meant to be.

The next day, the people searched and searched for the flower that they loved.
Little did they know that they wouldnt see the flower again.
Or that it was always in mental and physical pain.
The memory of the flower that always gave them joy would now only bring grief.
I looked at what I voluntarily lost, what I cared about the most, in disbelief.

The End

-441 words
Amelka Out