Sinner

I’ve been told that self harming is a sin,

And I’m a sinner from heart,

Breaking all the rules of God,

Begging for forgiveness but just hoping that death is my punishment.

-Isabelle Beckett.

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Day and night

Day taught us to smile again ,

but it’s night that open all old wounds.

days are too tiring ,

but the nights are what make us feel exhausted?

Because the memories are priceless.

They come in flashbacks,

Keeping us too occupied,

Sometimes I wish, it were you with me instead of these memories,

I’d hold you in my arms and savour another moment?

Paper plane

I sit down with a pen yet again.

Writing you a letter,

This is the last chance and I don’t want to let it go in vain.

I think of all the times we smiled,

all the times we spent in pain.

All the times you broke me,

just to make me stronger.

All the time you sat with your arms wrapped around me,

as I trusted you with my weaknesses.

But now you’re gonna leave with that paper plane on your wrist,

the same one as mine.

The one that’ll remind me of you,

the same one that will take us back through time.

Hurt

Dear nobody,

I was going to write a letter to someone who had hurt me in the past. Or that’s what I had thought I’d do. But then I realised, no one person can be blamed for what I am today. But when you read this line and you feel like the letter is for you, it probably is.

All of you, who have hurt me in some or the other way, intentionally or unintentionally, has made me change a thing or two about myself. For example, I don’t smile like I used to, one of you told me that I have a hideous face and my smile looks really ugly and that my eyes are so scary, it’s not normal. Well, thank you, for now, I hide my face behind my hair when I watch someone even glance at me.

Or the fact that everyone kept calling me an attention seeker or a crybaby for sharing my feelings to anyone who listened, just because I wanted to let it out, that is making me rethink posting this or even typing this letter down. Or when I trusted and cared for some people so much that I’d go out of the way to make sure they don’t have to go through any problems and scolded them for being a little too careless? I was called things I didn’t expect these people would call me and now I’m scared to show people that I care. Or that time when you constantly made me feel like I’m not enough and almost had me ending my life because I think, everything is just better off without me. I hope you know you hurt me a lot and it has changed me.

Spread your wings

When she was five, her father told her,

“Spread your wings baby girl,

Always aim high,

Work till you reach your goals,

Don’t ever let us down.”

When she was fourteen, her mother told her,

“Spread your wings my daughter,

Be like a butterfly, hard to catch,

Only concentrate on studies,

Don’t ever let us down.”

When she was sixteen, she told herself as she stood at the edge of the bridge,

“Spread your wings you stupid girl,

Jump off this bridge,

You’re not good enough for the world,

All you ever did was let them down.”

Stuck up

So, this friend of mine, she’s studying behavioural psychology. I’d like to call her my friend, a proper friend, because she spent almost two hours of her day, speaking to me, about myself.

At first, I was extremely anxious. I hesitated to speak, scared that she would judge me. She made me feel more comfortable and told me that she wouldn’t be judging me. I don’t even know why I am so terrified about the fact that someone is going to judge me.

In the phone call of over 1 hour 30 minutes, I kept telling her all my flaws. I kept complaining about myself and my life. At some point, I thought I was being pathetic. I was trying to make her realise that I am a terribly insane person. I questioned my esteem that day. But everyone around me seemed to notice these flaws too, they kept pointing these out to me.

She told me that I needed to start loving who I am. She told me it would be tough and it took her three years to learn how to do it. She said, “if you can’t love yourself, no one will.” I asked her how? How can someone be so confident while knowing all of their flaws and while knowing that people around them can see those flaws too. She told me that she couldn’t see any flaws in me. I thought it was either out of politeness or that she just never noticed. So I spent the next hour telling her all the things I hated about myself. Knowing them was tougher but stating them to someone else was tougher. At moments, I would find myself gasping for breath, trying to not to cry. After hearing me, she told me that all the stuff I told her, makes me who I am. She was true. But that’s what made me feel worse. “I’m a really pathetic person”, I thought.

I told her that I feared judgements. I told her I was scared of what others thought of me as. I told her that I was scared that everyone who has ever heard anything about me, has an image of me made up in their head, even if they don’t know me personally, they might think of me in a terrible way. She told me it was their choice to believe what people say or actually get to know you. It defines who they are. She also told me that she decided to speak to me, even after hearing everything about me, because that’s what defines her. She told me, if she were to believe what people told about me, she wouldn’t want to speak to me. “Look, you spoilt it for yourself”, I said to myself.

I told her I worry too much and I think about everything in excess. She said that I should write down my thoughts and start to eliminate the negative ones. But still, after I was done with the call, all I could do is go back and rethink everything we spoke about. I started to panic when I realised that people think of me as someone they don’t want to know. I started saying all kind of mean things to myself. A part of me asked me to follow her suggestion, and a part of me told me that I deserve all the pain in the world. I started crying and calling myself a bitch. I kept repeating mean words to myself, even when I wanted to stop, a voice in my head kept telling me that I deserve this. And again, I wished I wasn’t the type who would be stuck in her own head.

Someone else.

Slut. Whore. Easy. Bitch.

She was called these words so often, she almost believed that she deserved to be called these. Sometimes, she would want to be the way they describe her. Just to show them that if she acted the way they described her, they’d be disgusted. They didn’t even know her properly. Who are they to judge? Just because she is a bit more confident and loves the way she looks because she worked to hard for it, they want to say, she’s asking for it. They call her names, even before knowing who she is. They judge her for what they hear of her, even before having a word with her. Only people who really know her, know how amazing she is. She is caring, even when she acts like she doesn’t care. She is loving, even when she acts like she doesn’t know what love is. She is hurting, even when she acts like she doesn’t know what’s hurting like. It’s hard for her to trust people because whenever she trusted someone, they decided to show her that she shouldn’t trust anyone. She was scared to fall in love for the only time she dared to love someone, she was left heartbroken. She was so full of emotions, she turned to alcohol and drugs to turn her emotions down. She tried to hold a strong face because she learnt that when someone realises how weak you are, they stamp over you and walk away. She is someone else behind what she shows.