I Ended Today Thankful I'm Alive Today

[KeiaTypeBeat 3276]

Spoiler

I really hate this title, thinking ab "I woke up today wanting to die but thankfully I'm still alive" or smthng - I'm only writing this blurb cuz it upsets me the embeded text blurb gives away the trigger warning in the spoiler - anyways

 

This one gets a bit heavy; trigger warning for

Spoiler

suicidal ideation, self harm, scenarios of crisis, etc 

 

 

I woke up not feeling too stoked on life today

I regretfully say today I'm not happy I'm alive, okay?

And I hate the way that sounds as it comes out of my mouth 

And I hate how my voice sounds when I speak these words aloud

 

 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that today I'm feeling as grey as the clouds in the sky as though those clouds in the sky were willed forth from the clouds of my mind 

 

And on these days when my hope has no place I can't help but see my face and notice the grace has gone away and that I have nothing okay to say about my looks this day 

 

And when my mind flips the script and my body morphs from a temple to a crypt I feel like a hypocrite in the ways I depict my happiness as though it always exists when in fact it's the first to quit the moment I hate that I exist

 

And when I hate my existence I always lose the resistance I so often insist is my ancestral gift of inhibition I was born with that helps me resist this ambition to quit this lonely existence 

 

 

I woke up not feel okay about life today 

I regretfully say today I'd rather just die already 

I hate the way my eyes stare back at me as they glare at me from within the mirror 

And I hate the way my hair never plays fair to the point I want to self-harm with Nair

 

 

Cuz if I selfharm with Nair instead of using razors I won't leave scars behind I'll need to hide and it can be disguised as selfcare when I burn away all this hair that grows everywhere

 

And I find on those days when I burn my legs it leaves such an itch behind that makes me switch away the misery of mind for the pain of this body of mine I'm trapped inside 

 

And I wish I could embody the notion that the pain of emotion is as real as the pain I feel in my body from self-harming disguised as a shoddy attempt to take care of my body 

 

And I candidly insist that I honestly wish a sense of validity would persist through these sessions of depression without needing reasons to make the pain feel like it validly exists

 

 

I woke up regretting that I woke up today 

I regretfully say today that I'm not doing okay

I hate the way I rely on others to keep my peace of mind

And I hate that I'm pining for others to see the tears that I'm crying 

 

 

Cuz I'm crying these tears of mine that originate from fears left behind by cruel guys and the women in my life who taught me I am weak when I cry 

 

And I know this pain of mine came from a traumatic life surrounded by dramatic adults who used their strife as an excuse to gaslight a child to believing she was broken and hopeless inside  

 

And that child still hides behind the darkness of my mind and she's still blinded by horrors and vices that were spawned from the virus of abuse and a life filled with crisis that left her with no one she can choose to confide with 

 

And if she has no one to confide with in her moments of crisis, who can see the pain trapped within her irises, how can she ever possibly hope to survive this?

 

 

I woke up to the intensity of dread today

I regretfully say today my apathy has replaced my grace

I hate that I can't feel utterly happy when I'm alone by myself 

And I hate that I can't say I'm a priority on someone's shelf 

 

 

Maybe if I were smart enough for college and didn't quit I would have gifted my heart with the knowledge or the wit that would help me to acknowledge my poetry as being fit enough to be called art instead of always seeing shit 

 

And I wouldn't have to lie when cute guys ask me why I'm not equipped with a gun for this security gig I run, cuz if I tell 'em I don't have one cuz I'd give in to my demons, then they'd run cuz they won't think that I'm any fun 

 

And if I'm no fun than I'd be left with no one to abscond me from the misery that runs within the breath of my lungs on these days where my hope is gone and my pain meets ascension 

 

At least I'm a pantheist and can admit that if I decide I need an early quit to this life I've lived then the next life I live will likely be even worse than this life I live so if the point of quitting this life I've lived would be to catch a break from the constant pain of this life I've lived then the point of suicide falls flat and I can just accept the pangs in the crisis in my mental fit

 

 

I know I just have to get through today 

And thankfully today I can say eventually I'll be okay 

Disregarding dramatics, I can always say the pain has a point it's making

Emboldening my theatrics, this pain paves a new way for another's taking 

 

 

Cuz when I wake up feeling this hollow I know my pain is burrowing the way to a path being made that others someday will be able to take and choose to follow when they feel this hollow

 

And I know each stanza I make will be used one day to craft lyrics of art that will speak to the heart of those who say "it feels like my life is falling apart today" when they wake up feeling like they aren't okay 

 

And it's plain to me that sharing all my poetry for all to see will eventually breed in me a confidence that clings to me that leads to the day I can look an audience in the face and still be able to breathe okay 

 

And I know someday I'll spend each day looking victims in the face as I guide the way for them to find the strength that lay in the wake of the trauma that made them feel so unsafe 

 

And I know by night I'll read my poetry to a mic and it'll reach the minds of those people who will find it, who aren't affected by crisis or family violence but need to feel seen regardless of the forms of harms I haven't lived with who otherwise I would have missed and can still find strength in the gift that is the sound of my resistance

 

 

I woke up wanting to quit today

I'm glad to say today won't be the day 

The pain I feel may be real but it's the fuel someday I'll use to heal

People with pain so real they need the voice of another to know their struggle is validly real

 

And even if I woke up feeling suicidal today, 

I refused this day to let my mind go idly insane

The weight of my pain is the source of the purpose that I make

And the weight of this purpose that I choose every day to wake up and create is the very reason no matter the season or pain of the evening that in this life I choose to stay

 

 

And one day someone will wake!

And they'll wake up crying in pain!

And they'll read from a page or from a forum on their phone 

Or they'll hear from a stereo, or if God's willing, the radio

 

The words in a book or a post or a poem or a song that lets them feel less wrong and helps them know they're not alone!

 

 

They'll know this Love Sick Junkie and the Ocean of Emotion on which she floats!

They'll Look at What She Wrote when she was Drowning and it will be the founding of the hope that makes them cut their own rope!

When her songs reach those Love Sick Junkies Full of Scars, while they're Dancing in the Dark, Rumination vs Rejuvenation will be a fight they're prepared to make!

 

And they'll choose to live life despite the harm to them others have made! 

 

 

So regardless of the trauma and regardless of the pain!

Regardless if suicide has been on my mind today!

I make the choice to be thankful for this life of mine Creator gave!

Because only a life of such trauma and strife could create this path that I take!

And the path that I take leads me to healing others someday!

And if I have to heal to know how to help make others heal!?

 

Then I guess you could say I ended this day really thankful that I'm alive today