M/G

no longer am I trapped
in the hold of the devil
in the form of a teenage boy.
no more do I find myself helpless
to brown eyes that catch mine
for only a second
before darting towards the next prey

no longer do I succumb to the self pity
and the utter loathing
that overwhelms me
to the point where the only breath I can get
is when the knife is seeping through my skin.

no longer do I spend
endless nights with myself
becoming good pals with 3am
the walls in my head shattering
leaving me awfully alone
with thoughts
dreams
desires
all revolving around you
all I wish could be thrown into the river.

no longer do I wish
that I could throw myself into the river
the goodbyes and bloody metals
piles of pills and google searches
on “how to tie a noose”
have all been deleted
tied up with cement boots
and sunken down to the bottom of the water.

no longer am I considering the “what-ifs”
“he can change”
“i can change”
and the one I adore the most
“i’ll get better, I swear”.

it still amazes me
how somebody can promise something
so many times
so, so many times
and never quite see that they’re not even trying
not even at all.
you may say you’ll be different
swear it on your missing soul
pray to god that it will happen
but that means absolute shit.

i’ve not quite given up
not just yet.
but I have hope the size of a goldfish
swimming around
in the part of my brain permanently marked “him”
all alone, by himself.
just a little fish in a bay of hammer-heads
just like you.