Self-destruction

T/W: Su1c1de

Self-destruction has been crowding my mind lately,

Pushing on the edges asking for more space,

Asking the others to leave so they can spread out their thorns with comfort,

The doctors say the brain is still a mystery to science,

And maybe there’s a reason it is so,

I don’t understand my own mind.

(and it doesn’t make me want to understand either.)

The want to live and the wish to be able to think no more,

all look the same to me for some time now.

While I am suffocating in my own constructed maze,

With the thought of living like this every single day,

gnawing away the skin on my throat from inside until I cannot breathe.

I wonder if anyone would be affected if

I made the decision my brain’s been telling me to.

I’m trying to convince myself that it wouldn’t matter.

That the sun would still rise,

the moon will still be its beautiful self,

and the world will keep on celebrating the new year’s.

I’m trying hard to believe that the world would continue without me.

Because there are so many people in this world,

Because they all have their own life to live,

Because so much is happening all the time,

I tried to believe it won’t matter.

But it would.

I know the weight on my scale will not leave with me,

But go to sit on the shoulders of people who love me.

I know the ghost of my existence,

Would forever haunt the people who care about me.

That the silence that I would leave behind will become the

loudest screams echoing in my family's ears.

I know my father who never cried in front of everyone,

Would not even bother to hide the silent tears.

I know my brother who was too cool to be talking to me,

Would then sit by my room waiting for me to come and scold him.

I know my mother who always told me in secret that I’m her favorite child,

Would dissociate so badly, not even I would be able to call her back.

I know, I know, I know.

Of all that’ll go wrong if I listened to my brain.

I’ve thought and contemplated about all the facts,

Of how even if I didn’t wake up, the time will go on.

The sun would keep rising,

The moon will still be beautiful,

and the world would continue celebrating.

What I didn’t consider was that, months after I’m gone,

The heavy air of what-ifs would resonate in my house.

And so I finally understood.

That even if the sun would still rise.

The moon would still be there.

And The world would continue celebrating.

I wouldn’t be there.

And I want to be there.

~s