I was recently searching through some papers and found this old poem I had written. I wrote it March 29th, 2015. That was 3 days before I had my first suicide attempt. This poem was a class assignment for my Pre-ap english class in 8th grade. It was a cry for help. I never wanted to commit suicide but at the same time, I wouldn’t mind if I had died that day. That’s for a different blog post though.
“There’s nothing more algid than your stare.
The way you show love isn’t love,
Yet you claim to care.
I’ve become a broken winged dove.
I subsist to break free,
My cries for help drowned.
Only wishing you could see,
That I’m so terrified I won’t be found.
Your eyes are so lewd.
Amused by the falling of my feathers,
Get me out of this feud.
Cut me away from your tethers.
It’s iniquity you don’t fear,
That is though you’ve made it clear. “
You may be wondering, “who is this poem is about?” If you aren’t, sorry but i’m telling you anyways. This poem is about my years struggle to break away from the verbal and mental abuse caused by my stepmother hoping my father would notice and mend me back together. He didn’t and regardless of me trying to commit suicide, she still tries everything in her power to make my life miserable even though we are now four hours apart.
Receiving this poem assignment was so exciting to me. I’ve always been a literature geek. Not only was I able to write my feels down through it, but my parents didn’t care about what I was writing so I could act as if it was a small diary entry. See it may not seem like a big deal but I had absolutely no privacy. All journals and diaries I owned were searched threw and then trashed followed by shaming for the things I wrote inside of them.
Finding this poem tore me apart and put me back together.