you sit,
and you ponder
of why life
isn't fair enough.
why most times,
nothing but the screams
of helpless
children,
fill your ears.
you wonder,
why must it be only i
that can hear
the tainted words,
that individuals who birthed me,
love me,
slit their wrists
and starve themselves
for me,
the forbidden words
they utter to a wilted
flower.
the flower
always being you.
i know you've had enough.
you wonder,
you break,
and you scream this time,
crying out
to the gods
that promised to save you.
a life,
a life many have fulfilled
with promises
they know
they cannot keep.
a life where love
is cinematic,
where family
is important,
where dreams
are picture perfect,
and thoughts are pure.
i despise the broken lies,
that society keeps feeding.
for life,
is unfair.
family isn't important,
family is toxic.
love is a nightmare
and dreams
are never realistic.
they promised
to help you.
they promised
to stay.
they promised
to keep you safe.
yet,
when that same life,
that life that is never fair,
gets too tough
they get angry.
their screams mix with yours,
they cut their wrists on purpose,
and bleed
and shout for they are all you have.
life isn't fair.
never, ever fair.
and i wish
and pray.
and hope.
and plead.
and wonder.
why we were chosen,
chosen to be punished.
by the gods that promised
to save us.
and the life
that is promised
to be fair.
-zmh
YOU ARE READING
the ruins of me
Poetryi love you; said me every time foolishly. if you see any grammer mistakes, please do not hesitate to contact me politely about them! also credit to whoever may have taken the picture of the flowers for my cover, I did edit it a bit but other than...
