As I'm writing a love letter to death, she asked "Are you writing your poem again?"
I nodded with a grin on my face, knowing that I'll never be understood.
"What is it about this time?" she asked again,
"Hope didn't come to save me, I did. Time didn't drown me, I did. The way I destroy myself to save myself is so catastrophic. How do I heal the wounds that people left me to die? I've learn science but I'll never know how, except by writing. I'm no prisoner yet I still need to break free from the jail. How am I not dead but my heart did. How did my heart beating as a dead corpse? Shouldn't dead stays die? My tears have been condemned, these eyes are dead. I've been in the cold for too long, I don't know how to live except only know how to survive. Is this a nature of a man? That he must be dead to appear alive? The amount of toxic masculinity that the society has contributed has become a nightmare for a boy who was once his mama favourite. Do I carry a value as a man? As a human being? What am I? Who am I? I'll be stuck in the middle that is so low for myself yet higher than others. The wall I built keep me safe, but never from myself. I am the enemy of me. The crow laughs as it is ready to salvage my mind. The elephant cried for me. Yet these human, made me a tool. I've sinned, living sinfully and a disgrace as I'm in sinfulness. The city of god is no place for me, although I dream about it every night. In the end, I'll never love myself and that is the hell that I brought upon myself"
I nodded with a grin on my face, knowing that I'll never be understood.
"What is it about this time?" she asked again,
"Hope didn't come to save me, I did. Time didn't drown me, I did. The way I destroy myself to save myself is so catastrophic. How do I heal the wounds that people left me to die? I've learn science but I'll never know how, except by writing. I'm no prisoner yet I still need to break free from the jail. How am I not dead but my heart did. How did my heart beating as a dead corpse? Shouldn't dead stays die? My tears have been condemned, these eyes are dead. I've been in the cold for too long, I don't know how to live except only know how to survive. Is this a nature of a man? That he must be dead to appear alive? The amount of toxic masculinity that the society has contributed has become a nightmare for a boy who was once his mama favourite. Do I carry a value as a man? As a human being? What am I? Who am I? I'll be stuck in the middle that is so low for myself yet higher than others. The wall I built keep me safe, but never from myself. I am the enemy of me. The crow laughs as it is ready to salvage my mind. The elephant cried for me. Yet these human, made me a tool. I've sinned, living sinfully and a disgrace as I'm in sinfulness. The city of god is no place for me, although I dream about it every night. In the end, I'll never love myself and that is the hell that I brought upon myself"