Just some poems I write/wrote when I'm bored!


8. Windows

**This is not like my other poems. Is this even a poem? I don't think it is but you guys can let me know if you like it or not. First attempt at something like this. **

There are people who tell you that tears will not help you.

Crying won't solve anything, they'll say.

Those people experience a different kind of hurt.

Have you ever felt so worthless you physically hurt?

That you look at the rolls of fat around your middle or the way your thighs bulge over the chair and you wonder what you ever did to deserve this.

That you count the chins and force your head up high so that the people that stare might not see how your neck vanishes under the folds.

That you look at the size of your chest or your height or your weight and you look at your friends and you wonder why they're so gorgeous when you are so...


Have you ever heard the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul?

Well I have a theory.

When you cry, it is not because you can't handle the pressure or because you worry too much or because you cannot stop all the noise in your head overwhelming your thoughts.

When you feel so worthless and the only options are to take the handful of pills or slide the blade across your skin and every fabric of your being and the very person you are is screaming to get out and you cry.

You cry because if you didn't open the "windows to the soul" you would be in a wooden box, buried not by the weight of your struggles but by the pressure of 6 feet of dirt on top of you.

And you cry because if the windows don't open they would shatter and the shards would fall inside and slice open your heart and leave you in so many pieces that no matter how many pills you take to fix your mind you can't help lose it.

So if you are one says that crying is pointless, well maybe it is for you, but for me you are so wrong. You haven't experienced the hurt when you're so broken you want to scream and you're drowning in your own pain and no one listens. No one ever listens.

And I urge you, if your windows are cracking and that blade is pressed against your veins, the rope tight against your neck. I urge you to unlatch the windows because trust me for the love of all that is good in this world or in the innocently space above it, it is better to drown yourself in your tears than to lock the windows and let your soul suffocate inside.

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