a self-destructive ghost of a woman

by nourayasmine   Jan 9, 2021

i’m sorry i’m a cracked wall

i know
addiction is my only way of falling in love,
sometimes my sadness grows musical notes
along its edges,
and my voice breaks like
the sky colors in winter against an ocean,

but don’t let yourself be moved,

i’m heavy and hopeless,
like a death note, a festering wound,
an asthma attack

i know
love took my poetry by the hand,
put its head under the sink,
rubbed its belly,

it’ll never sober up
i know
i have dark circles around my words,

please stop me from
writing myself into your heart

i know
this is where i came from,
this is where i’ll ever belong,
you’re a happy thing,
i don’t belong to you


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Latest Comments

  • 3 months ago

    by IzL

    Loved this

  • 3 months ago

    by Skyfire

    This is so incredibly powerful. The images are just.... incredible. Really beautifully written.

  • 3 months ago

    by stormingdance (Jessica)

    I'm left aghast at the visuals. Likening addiction to falling in love shows the intensity in which one feels toward their addiction - whether the addiction is mental or physical. Again - the intensity of emotion creates sound in ones mind - your sadness is so deep it becomes incorporeal. You can feel it, see it, hear it, and and it's dragging you under.

    "i have dark circles around my words," ---- I LOVE THIS - the entire poem is intense - emotion becomes a physical attribute in which we can see.

  • 3 months ago

    by Baby Rainbow

    Wow, what a very in depth piece and there is so much pain inside this poem and I love how it brings poetry itself into the poem.

    The imagery here is breath-taking!

    "and my voice breaks like
    the sky colors in winter against an ocean"

    Very relatable poem about that dark place we trap ourselves in, where partly we feel safe in the known of our own darkness, but partly because we are to too scared to get close to anything that may be happy or light, because we know how much pain it can bring to go wrong, and if we deserve it or not is another thing.

    Love this poem so much,I think my favourite part is:

    Stop me from from writing myself into your heart.

    I like this part because I feel like often I am writing about the past or people in in, and the only way to recover is probably to stop writing, but any chance of missing them or thinking of the past, the pen just brings me back to writing about it.

    Great work, hope you win something in the contest

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