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When She Dies (Poetry by Briavry/ Sad Story)

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When I Die


Soon her eyes turned open,

Soon the world made a display,

Soon the memories burst back her head,

Soon that it reminds her of the surface,

the surface of her life, of her world, once again, once every morning.


She eyed her hands for a moment,

a moment that could reach up longer,

and much longer,

until she gets satisfied.


"What can you do if you can't make a little move to begin?" a question ringing to one's gist.


She was confused,

confused about the question.

Not knowing what to answer,

answer that she's been confused about ever since.


She is confused,

confuse about her life.


She was thinking, what is it she can do? A question that she thought she knew the answer to yet.


She's afraid. Afraid of everything.


She got up from her bed to breathe,

she's lack air,

air that her heart and soul need and are hungry too.


She lets a moment pass by,

until she gets satisfied.


She looked in the mirror to fix her face to a face of necessity,

Even it's a hell of hard doing as usual as she does every day because she feels the pain to her every being, wholly oneself.


"You can do that!" she muttered, forcing herself to be looked convincing,

hoping she could fool herself and believe the look of encouragement she makes, as best as she could fake,

as the best as she could pretend and disguised,

covering the truth behind her.


But sadly, that can not help her losing her guts.


Guts for seeking help.


Help that she couldn't give herself.


A help she seeks for others to give her.


Help that she couldn't find and have.


The help that she'd like to give others, but she needs more than others. So, she is not capable of giving.


Help that is nowhere to find.


She opened her mouth to speak for something.


"I am weirder and scarier than a ghost," she has always been told herself of that. Then continued throwing out her voices,


"Because I'm still living. But my heart is murdered, and my soul is dead

and yet I'm still alive, but I feel already dead."


Thoughts flashed in her head.


"When I die, Can I still be a ghost?

If my soul is dead?

And when I die, will it ever be changed?

Will it make a difference?

If I feel I'm dead already?" Weep.


; There are times in our lives that we'll have to live even without meaning, even we hate living, even we hate the world.


Sometimes we feel helpless and empty.


And we feel the pain of being empty at the same time.


There are moments when we don't know how to walk through our way because even the path could be a great hindrance for us. Or we'll realize that there is no way for us to walk through.

There are moments when we ask so many questions, and we will seek answers for the things we don't understand.

There are moments that as we look at our bare hands, we will seek answers for what its purpose.


Then we'll end up thinking what its purpose is to keep hanging on with our lives, even how so it's painful to live for us. Even how meaningless our lives are. It is to keep holding on to living even we know how much it has no meaning. It is to keep our grip on it no matter how painful it is to hang on at the verge of our sufferings.


And as we are restraint for some movements because the threat of falling worrying us is an additional of the torture we face, so as we couldn't seek help. But if we dive into the gravity of infinity, we are already used to the kind of surface. Nothing will ever change at all. And because we used to face the sort of thing, we'll think there's no chance at all. We'll suppose if we fall, it's okay because we are used to it.


But somehow, we wish for everything to end and start with looking at beautiful things, no evil, no death, no blood, no tears, no pain, no hate, no hurt, no fear, no negativities.

We wish to be in a good place where nobody and nothing can ever hurt us.

© 2021 Briavry

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