I'm afraid of living and dying and anything in between.
I'm afraid of my mother and father and brother.
I'm afraid that I will die without ever meeting you and I'm afraid I will die alone in the darkness where nobody will notice that I have slipped away.
I'm afraid of the darkness because it's so easy to slip away into, absorbed into the black hole that is 3 am on a winters morning.
I'm afraid I'll be one of those unsolved mysteries that everybody will talk about in the future, and my friends will say 'But she seemed so happy.'
I'm so afraid of dying by my own hand because that is how I was raised.
I was raised to hate myself and feel guilty for things that weren't my fault and feel too many emotions that were other people's to feel.
I'm afraid of dying by somebody else's hand because that will hurt and in the time it will be scary and I might become an unsolved mystery and that is the worst way to be.
An unsolved mystery, left in the past.
I cannot be an unsolved mystery when I am alive and I will not be one when I am dead
YOU ARE READING
Monsters Are Human
PoetryShe was poetry in a world still learning the alphabet. [ Just poems I found on Tumblr.] [ I do not own any of these!! ] [ The first few are horse poems. But it gets better. ] #230 in Poetry - 1 June 2016
