Why don’t you?

*This is a long poem.

Why don’t you

Drip a few drops of blood in your glass of milk?
Instead of carving crimson red roses on your pale skin.
If you love the way red sinks in white so much,
That you keep forgetting that you’re always wrong.
You talk to yourself and this
Is one of the some hundred thousand things that you had said.

Why don’t you

Stare at the sun like you stare at your ceiling all day?
If you dislike blinking your eyes so much,
That you keep forgetting how
Eyes can start drying up and
Your eye lids will then shut close forever,
Start hurting your head.
And you’ll faint, slowly, and then all at once.

Why don’t you

Tear open your chest and dig your way
Inside the framework of your body?
And count the number of ribs you have just to make sure there’s none missing.
(Because of how often they fail to protect your heart)
If you love counting so much,
That you keep forgetting how you forget
Numbers at 6 in the morning
After laying in your bed for 17 hours straight.

Why don’t you

Paint your eyes grey and your lips black
And punish yourself for not teaching your hands how to make loops in ropes
And for standing on chairs but never knocking them off?
If you love being sad so much,
That you keep forgetting how you used to grow chrysanthemums with strangers
And how yours were always the brightest.
Always the happiest. Always.

Why don’t you

Eat a couple of weeds and then a couple of flowers for dinner
And drink some fertilizer instead of your favorite red wine?
And grow a war inside your body and wait to see what happens next.
If you love being called a bindweed more than you love being called “morning glory”, so much,
That you keep forgetting that they’re both of the same kind
And that they may be weeds but they didn’t ask to be born where they’re not wanted.

Unlike you.

Why don’t you

Die.
If you hate your presence so much,
That you keep forgetting that nobody was born for a reason.

But maybe you were.
Maybe you should die.

For all those who think they are not worth being alive,
I wonder, dear human, for I want to think like you too,
What you’re worth and what you’re not, how did you decide?

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This poem was inspired by the line “They’re weeds but they didn’t ask to be born where they’re not wanted.” which I came across in one of Paul Sunstone’s most beautiful posts.

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I will be posting the poems that I wrote in 2017 and 2018 for the rest of the month. They are not that great but I want to share them. Also, I will be posting once or twice a week.

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