4. Memories and Feelings That Still Haunt Me
I've cried too hard for too long as I debated death.
Over and over, all I wanted was a quick overdose,
a quick way to escape the pain.
Until the guilt set it
and made me realise,
suicide feels too selfish.
Instead I turned my sadness into art
and my pain into strength.
Desperately wanting to carve up my skin,
I bled on a page.
My screams are silent, hidden behind closed doors,
And computer screens.
All these horrible emotions kept secret in notebooks.
I'm too afraid to speak about it, so I write it down
That's how my poetry is made.
~The birth of poetry -Me
____
First place in 2021 Irenic Awards poetry catergory
Highest rankings:
#16 original work
#2 relapsing
