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Gabriella Thakhamhor Poem
You criticized me to the end of my
existence. I completely lost myself, simply
sitting made me anxious.
I was always waiting for you to call my
name and point out another mistake. Self
worth. What is that?
Quite frankly, I'm trying to rediscover
mine. Since it has been perished.
Diminished along with the feeling of
comfort.
I'm not comfortable anymore. I'm sorry if
you think I'm superficial for liking clothes.
But I'm forever searching for an outfit that
I don't have to tug at and readjust like my
attitude.
Sorry if my attitude isn't chipper when I
first wake up in the morning after only
getting 3 hours of sleep
because I had lay awake and analyzed
every single one of my actions for the day,
after you insisted on pointing out
everything I could have done better. Sorry
that you think I'm a perfectionist,
because I'm more than aware that I'm not
perfect. More than aware, because you
remind me everyday.
I actually don't strive to be perfect, I just
strive to be accepted. Your voice is like
acid to my ears.
All I want is one day of not having to hear
your icy tone after you call me ignorant.
But ignorance is bliss, don't you know? I
am so lost now that I actually miss the
days that I was naive to this world.
The days where I just nodded and obeyed.
Thinking that it would eventually change
you.
But no...it changed me. I've become a
heartless *****. Actually, I care SO much.
Though, no one knows that. If I come off
as a *****, I'm truly sorry. But I feel
constantly on edge,
like I have to either defend or prove
myself. If someone compliments me, it
has to be a joke.
Who could compliment such a worthless
piece of human existence.
That's what I think of myself now. Your
fault? No, it's mine. My fault for not being
able to overcome this.
My fault for turning to drugs because
Molly was the only one who could make
me happy.
I counted how many times I genuinely
laughed this year. Six. All of them when I
was high.
My fault for locking myself in the
bathroom and not being able to look in the
mirror without bursting into tears because
I hated myself so much.
I'd sit there and write out lists. Lists of
everything I needed to change about
myself, because what I needed to change
about myself was everything.
But, then what does that leave? Nothing.
And if I am nothing, then I no longer exist.
I spent so much time trying to be good
enough for you, that I forgot about what
was good for myself.
Gabriella? Yeah I knew that girl. But she
disappeared the day that she met you.
Copyright © Gabriella Thakhamhor | Year Posted 2014
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Details |
Gabriella Thakhamhor Poem
A smile. It's hard to tell whether that smile
is genuine or just masking a plethora of
secrets. The sparkle in your eyes suggests
honesty, but the whites of your eyes are
stained with tiny red lightening bolts.
Sweetheart, what storms have you faced?
No one knows of the events you've
witnessed, the memories that you try to
repress. When people see a lost soul they
are quick to judge. She wishes someone
could walk a mile in her shoes, but the
shoes would break before the mile is up,
since they are too worn down from the
countless nights that she ran away, trying
to escape the hell that was her life.
Constantly, she dreams of a better life.
She wants to go to college and make an
honest living. But college costs money,
and no one wants to hire someone so
young...except for the men with the black
tar blood. And wandering the streets is
such a familiar task that the idea seems
comforting. Though the red light district is
anything but comfortable, try corrupt. But
money is motive and soon heroin is too.
Sweetie, what happened to you your
dreams? Did they disappear amongst your
conscience that first night that you shot
up? Your eyes have changed, now I can't
seem to find a trace of honesty. Your
parents haven't bothered looking for you.
Why didn't you just tell them the truth?
That you only said those words so that
they would let you leave. That you'd come
back in just four years with money and a
degree, and they could love you again. But
people with black tar blood are not
ccommonly loved. Soon she will take her
last breath. A person with good intentions,
who made bad decisions. The day she
died, no one truly knew her. No one knew
that she wanted to go to college, that her
favorite color was blue. Her parents didn't
mourn. They simply shook their heads
with shame, said she'd done this to
herself. But when her eyes rolled back, I
caught a glimpse of honesty, and the
remnants of the same red lightening bolts.
Copyright © Gabriella Thakhamhor | Year Posted 2014
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Details |
Gabriella Thakhamhor Poem
Today I feel miserable. Not just your run of the mill sorrow, but it's as if my thoughts have morphed into blades
and sliced their way into my heart. My brain has imprinted your memories into my mind, too far deep to ever be retracted.
I've found peace within the pain, accepted it perhaps. Because even though it hurts to think of you, I can't stop.
Your soul will live on for eternity, and permanently in my heart.
Sometimes I pretend that you've never really left this earth. I see you often.
In my dreams, in strangers that roam the street, the ones with the same innocent blue eyes as yours.
I can still hear your laughter. It has been 247 days since I have physically been in your presence.
247 days without answers, without closure, without...you.
Everything that led up to that day was despicable. You deserved gold, but received gravel.
But hatred is poisonous.
And if I allow anymore poison to slip into my blood, then I may be gone as well. So I will try to forgive, but can never forget.
I love you more than I love myself.
Copyright © Gabriella Thakhamhor | Year Posted 2014
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