Trigger Warning: ⚠️ it will have death in this poem. Please read with caution
I can pound the door.
Knock it out of the hinges.
But yet in a world of chaos I seem to be silent.
I can give you my heart.
My mind
Even my soul.
But yet it's not enough.
I can see myself in a coma.
No one is standing at my bedside.
Only the ones that was true to me but also the ones who mind is wrecked with grief.
I can plea for an escape
To be with my Tete and bubba
But I know that they would be disappointed if I have left this wicked world so early.
Especially when my path isn't done just yet.
So I slice my wrist.
Not to beg for an attention but to feel something when I am numb.
I write but what for when no one sees my tears or my plea for help.
I am back drinking because it quiet the thoughts in my mind.
I care for my health.
But even after a change of diet.
I remain sick.
I am running, running.
But running where.
I have started running when I was 12.
I get tired sometimes.
But I know I am running towards a home filed with love, peace and happiness.
I am running to find someone to take the reins andi can sometimes loose control.
I know I have become a problem.
I know the people have given up on trying to save me.
I'm use to this.
But I am looking for a constant.
Someone that resemble a bit of my bubba.
A bit of my Tete
A bit of my ex Jess.
I miss the letters
The songs
The poems
The just because
But sadly I see now that my love life is what they can take. what I can give.
No one love me unconditionally. Not like I love them. But someday will find that person. I will find my one.
