The Grave That I Call My Home

Thorn to my rose

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In a room full of strangers, our eyes met in secrecy.

With that striking smile of yours, you simply just ended me.

Gently whispered words killed me more than any poison could.

Loved you way too fondly than any lover ever should.

In frightened voice and shaky hands, I was scared to lose you.

In granted lives and afterlife, I was never meant to have you.

What is life anymore, if not just the absence of you?

Had to watch you bleed to death, what is even left to lose?

Once again in life I am terrified to let you close.

You were my known ruin. A lethal thorn, my gentle rose.

I fell for you gently as leaves do on a dreary autumn evening.

You continued to bloom delicately as you were the sweetest child of spring.

Unnoticed for years, my world has been touched by you.

In running away from home, I found a home in you.

I fell for you, like hades fell for persephone

And I am falling, like moon falls around the earth still.

I write this with my love, hoping that you might see this too.

I share this with the world, but really it only ever was for you.

Dear universe

At 13 I thought that the universe hates me. For it made me tainted and it made me unlovable. Perhaps it was true; or perhaps I was just 13. Now I finally see that there are things that actually love me.

The darkness holds me still and grief kisses my hand. The demons in my head tell me it'll be fine. And hunger kind of always stays along with this unbearable ache. Longing lingers like a lonely child and sinister thoughts eat me up inside. Years of misery and wishing to be dead. Screams of terror and weeps of fate. But dear universe I wont complain. For dear universe I still am loved.

Tw: self harm, self loathing

A girl lies on her bedroom floor.

She bleeds through her eyes and cries through her veins.

I watch her helplessly and let her fall apart.

Everyday she fights long lost battles and dies gruesome deaths.

Her life is nothing but a grave full of dead hopes.

I watch her and do nothing.

Perhaps because there isn't much left of her to be saved.

She is covered in bruises I don't recognize her anymore.

I watch her with curiosity.

Her eyes dark and cold like the night itself, she reeks of misery.

A home full of ghosts, none of them remotedly as dead as her soul.

I watch her mercilessly.

After all that's what monsters like her deserve.

I say, and I stop watching her.

No part of her deserves to be loved.

I say, and I step away from the mirror.

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To simply exist in all her devotion.

Tw: eating disorders and self harm

The monsters in my head. They won't leave.

An empty stomach. A grave where I live.

Scars on my thighs. A strange relief.

A disconsolate existence. A sigh of grief

My shattered childhood. It haunts me still

Whimpers of pain. A broken will.

Venomous family. Full of greed.

Begged you to stop it. It never did.

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Is it normal to grieve yourself?

And still yearn the grief?

To know you'll be eternally hurting,

Why is it such a relief?

There is love in my mother's disapproval.

It is there in the way she looks at me,

The way she loathes my existence.

It's not visible but it's there.

There is love in my father's resentment.

It is there in the way he talks to me,

The way he is ashamed of me.

It's not apparent but it's there.

There is love in my family.

It is there in broken dreams.

It is there in domestic scars.

So much love that you almost mistake it for hate.

If to love is to rest then I will perceive death for you.

For what greater form of rest do we know than to lie in the cold, dark earth forever?

Spring is awaking from its slumber 🤍💐🌾