It is not at the cost of the person who f**ked you up
Or the pathetic little thoughts, that wriggle into the pink mush of your brain,
Soaking it through until it's shivering and trembling and gone
It is not at the cost of you who dreams every night,
Of golden sandmen and razors that draw blood at every press
The passing of food so that your empty stomach can suffer more
Or meeting eyes with eyes in mirrors and sunny reflection,
Thinking, god, you're worthless.
You don't deserve life.
It is at the cost of the people who watch you break
Who watch their baby shatter
And wish they thought they were beautiful
But don't know how, when the sky has been empty for so long
No stars or red, blinking lights to wish upon
It is at the cost of the person who turns your page
And only sees a blank space ahead
And shreds of paper and ink behind
It is not at the cost of the person who f**ked you up
Maybe a blink, or a stray thought
(They were never at fault)
It is at the cost of you who do not matter
Who does not carry enough weight
To make a dent in the gravitational blanket
Who could float in galactic space
And just disappear
It is at the cost of the hands that shake,
The lungs that quake,
The tears that break,
And the mind that explodes
It is not at the cost of you.
Just the people who you don't know love you.
––
A/N
Hi :)
How are you all doing?
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Fantastical Confusion
Poetry"The most important thing, darling, is to live a fabulous life. As long as it's fabulous, I don't care how long it is." - Freddie Mercury Art, madness and poetry--whatever more could you need? Highest Rankings: #1 in poetry #1 in midnight thoughts #...
