poetry
1 min
chlorine
Bianca Ai
You are the beautiful yellow flowing through my veins,
When we cannot breathe, you are the only one I can blame,
When I say that I am running,
I am running to drink in all of your hate,
When you are medically giving me the worst type of migraine,
It is such an honour,
If you would spare me,
For seventeen more seconds,
And let me choke once more upon your claim,
To feel nothing left of my brain,
With your poisonous vibrations,
Coursing, hot between my lungs,
If I should suffocate,
With the taste of your lead on my tongue,
It is so terrible in flavour,
Like some bullet, I load in your gun,
With each sip we take,
It is like a drug, and I am so drunk,
Like climbing to the sun,
Only to fall back into what I cannot have undone,
Your words,
They captivate me,
When I let you inside of my misery,
You suffer with me,
As I continue to bleed,
You taunt every fiber of my being,
As I continue to plead,
You break every last bone in my frail body,
You mend every single cut you tore open,
So don't you dare show me your sympathy,
When you see how my hands shake,
In the fickle colour of burning memories,
To dissolve in the hazy acid,
And strangle in my throat,
To be left, standing in the deepest agony,
And should I welcome you,
Like you were somebody else,
Somebody that wasn't me,
When I'm dancing on the adrenaline of your fire,
If you were on the edge of the balcony,
With our secrets that were not yours to tell,
With the ground crumbling into pieces,
With the sirens and quakes, rumbling in my head,
As I slipped in,
And fell,
I cannot catch myself,
And I hold on,
I don't know for how long,
And I can't ask for help, for I am lost,
And I see you,
And you see me,
For, I didn't need it,
For, I didn't want it,
For, I didn't crave it,
For, I cannot erase it,
For, I cannot escape it,
For, I cannot satiate it,
For, I cannot wait it out,
To see in the light of the mourning,
Would you finally tell me,
That I am worthy,
In the darkness of the day,
Would you finally let me know,
That I deserved one ounce of your mercy,
This poem was written by a Bay Area local for the San Jose Public Library Short Edition collection.
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