poems-of-a-dying-child

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

I cradle the rage close to my chest, carefully. Closer than anything I have ever had to myself.

It has always been there, familiar like a memory. Comforting, unlike anything else I have had before.

Perhaps it burns a little warm sometimes, dangerous. But it is mine. It is mine and I will keep it.

It is mine and it is perhaps not good. For me, it is not good. But it is familiar.

I do not remember a time before the rage, I think I was born with it, inherited Like an heirloom or a gift but I do not want it. I did not want it but it is mine and I will keep it.

Treasure it: it is the only thing that has never left.

rage - Leo Waters

#original poem #original poetry #poems of a dying child #my writing #poets on tumblr

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

some extra thoughts on this:

my grandfather died in november 2020. at the height of the pandemic. I was not able to see him before he died. the last time I saw him was in october 2019. at the time, I wasn’t sure how to feel (I’m still not really) because I barely knew him, he lived halfway across the world. he meant a lot to a lot of my family. I think he meant a lot to me, but I am not sure. 

I have never known how to grieve. I don’t think there’s a correct way, but I also think that it isn’t healthy to simply ignore the situation for a few years. my mother was quite affected because she managed to get a flight out to see him before he died: she missed him by three hours. he died before she made it. that hurt me, but his death didn’t. 

it didn’t really affect me for a while. and then it did. suddenly, all at once, a lot of grief. a lot of mourning. and no one cared by then, because it had been three years. it’s been three years and I’m still trying to figure out my feelings.

anyway, yeah. idk wtf I’m doing when it comes to grief and I think poems like this show that quite well :,)

been having a lot of thoughts recently, about grief. it's kind of terrifying who we lose and how we lose them twice, when we start forgetting.

- voices (for memories)

Suddenly you realise you're forgetting his voice And you're mourning. Mourning like you didn't Two, three years ago when it happened but It didn't hurt then. Why didn't it hurt? Why Does it hurt now?

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

been having a lot of thoughts recently, about grief. it's kind of terrifying who we lose and how we lose them twice, when we start forgetting.

- voices (for memories)

Suddenly you realise you're forgetting his voice And you're mourning. Mourning like you didn't Two, three years ago when it happened but It didn't hurt then. Why didn't it hurt? Why Does it hurt now?

#original poetry #original poem #poems of a dying child #poem #grief poetry #grief processing

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

struggling with exam revision so I haven’t written much for a while. when I do, I always end up writing poems at like 2am

Darling on the sidelines

You could tell his eyes were for her and her alone,

Because he never looked at me like that, with that smile,

Those eyes, that gaze, that warm adoration meant only for one person

Not for me, I was never content for the sidelines,

But they were happy and who am I to break that?

But I wish he looked at me the way he looked at her,

It never works out because his parents wouldn’t allow it

God I wish they would, my darling. But let us be separate

And let me have you only like this because this is as far as we can go.

It is not enough, but I will let you be at peace,

Hurting you will never be in my plans. I love you,

My darling, but you cannot care for me the same way.

#poetry #poem #original poem #original poetry #poets on tumblr #poems of a dying child #original writing

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

flowers at my funeral

And there shall be no flowers on my grave, 

Because I can't bring myself to hurt you even more 

There will be roses in your kitchen, me in the ground 

Life has always been callous enough to us, 

And if we had one more minute, one more hour, 

Perhaps I could tell you the words right, tell you again 

Tell you again how much I love you, I miss you, 

There will be no flowers on my grave or roses in the kitchen 

The funeral will not be soon, I allow you small mercies my dear 

And for all that happened, take care of yourself love 

Because goddamn this is a lot to swallow, I'll see you later.

I’m grieving

#coping with grief #poem #original poem #poems of a dying child #my poems #death poem #i love you

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

Mourning

I can't keep mourning for things I've not yet lost. I can't keep mourning for things I've not had yet And I'm burying friends before their funerals Burying dreams before they come true Burying every chance I could've taken Because I don't want to lose. I don't want to keep losing Now there's a casket with my name on it. And I'm not dead yet, still not fucking dead, Because I'm not suicidal and I don't want to lose. Doing this over and over and over and over and It stops. So what happens now?

#jeez #I've just been diagnosed with ptsd #this is how I'm coping #poetry #original poem #original poetry #writing #poets on tumblr #poem

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

goodnight

it'll be the will of the gods if I fall tonight,

because I don’t make decisions,

it will be due to divine intervention

then I can bang on the gates of heaven

"it wasn't me, it was just the wind"

put my life in my own hands and I

I will be the ruin of it, but I cannot be selfish

I couldn’t do that to you.

I stand on the wire between life and death

and wait for the wind to blow,

it will not be my choice for my destruction

it is your will and I will follow it.

#poetry #original poem #original poetry #writing #my writing #it's been a while #poetry is my therapy #this one was cathartic #poems of a dying child

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

Dying

They’re all gone and I’m the last one left and it’s fine

Waiting for it; I pretend I’m okay with being left behind

There are flowers growing over where they are lying

And you have more respect for the dead than the dying

Names etched into stones and bodies in the ground

And I am left behind, to this place I’m bound

Roses on their gravestones and roses on my dresser

How could I live and survive all of this pressure?

They bled from their cuts and I bleed from the thorns

We’re all dead and the roses die and still he mourns.

#poetry #original poetry #poems of a dying child #poem #original poem

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

All your kids are suicidal

is it really surprising that we want to die?

is it really surprising that we want to die?

i’m fed up of adding cuts to my thigh

i hate adding up all the calories

looking at happy memories in my phone galleries

all your kids are suicidal

we’re so fed up of survival

i watch the scales counting down

something triggers another breakdown

my life is built on hate and scars

its pointless wishing on shooting stars

all your kids are suicidal

we’re so fed up of survival

i want to die so very bad

if i did you should be glad.

all your kids are suicidal

we’re so fed up of survival

#poems of a dying child #original poetry #vent #tw sucidal thoughts #Tw sh

[poems-of-a-dying-child]

i thought i was a kid.

you couldn’t have let me be a child

having fun and running wild

instead I was told what I would be

and you told me I’d never be free

I was only nine years old

and yet you felt my life had been told.

I wish I’d died before I was older.

Because as you age, you get colder.

You wanted to live my life for me

You never gave me the chance to be

To be myself and be different

I yelled and yelled and you were indifferent

I was only an ignorant kid

And now you don’t regret what you did.

#poetry #vent #poems #original poetry #poems of a dying child #targeted at my mother #she'll never see it #sorry