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A love poem to suicide

I am thinking

about countless pills, tight ropes and sharp knives,

like a soul with no road to drive,

bury my whole body alive,

look at me as I am broken pen drive.

 

Dear suicide,

You are among the negativity

that didn’t give me hopes,

but a bunch of tangled ropes

and blood that fill my daily envelopes

because my soul no longer can cope.

 

I always think,

talking about open wounds

will make humans come around,

but they only see me as scary clown,

like in darkest era,

when white people segregated the brown.

 

I am frightened to go outside,

searching for god behind the moonlight.

Society won’t give me any guide,

as I am ghost of the dark side,

died of bleeding wrist in a deep cut.

 

Dear suicide,

people wont recognize you as an art,

since my poetic justice wont rule

the poetry chart.

People said I needed a good start,

since suicide is my counterpart.

 

You never take me for granted,

not like people who left me fainted,

carved my whole heart till it’s outdated,

this is wasn’t the happiness that I wanted.

 

Still,

I ended up in ER

with fears and tears

looking at strangers that hated me in clear,

because God didn’t manage to kill me this year.

 

The funeral service that I set up

is a sign for our break up,

but u said,

I am not grown up,

like a boy that hides behind make up,

Accept me, let’s try to hook up.

 

Dear suicide,

you have no right

to crush my heart,

because I have right,

to accompany myself

with holy knights,

wanting you to

sleep and wrap myself all night.

 

Dear Suicide,

you know,

It wasn’t easy to tear me apart,

given rules like rituals in black magic art,

Voodoo pain wasn’t good for

transfusion of my blood,

because lovable reaper still got a heart,

saving my soul,

obeying the duty of God

that wants me to fight,

all day and night.

Awan Jebat


Awan Jebat. I am hostage of Borderline Personality Disorder behind the concrete prison of Major Depressive Depression as my soul inked with untreated scars bandage in stigma. I want to be a hero in everybody’s book with decoration of my art on the paper plane so, it could fly and reach others that are fighting the demon in them and break the wall of stigma built by society.

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