❝
You heard her name, morning, in the newspaper,
The headlines and the printed words didn't help her disappear,
Some give in with her family's grief, some sneered at how she stole the cheer,
Everything wouldn't even matter because she is not here.

Her parents cried, her friends denied,
She is an angel, she took us by surprise,
Although she was a freak, obsessed with death and sinners,
Called blood wine, and killers her lovers.

She was sick, she was meek,
She was seeking attention, she was weak.
She was buried under the dirt of her past,
We didn't bully her, she wouldn't have last.

What a shame, her parents are to be blamed,
They couldn't talk to their daughter, they couldn't tame,
Father drowned in loans, loans sharks picked on mother,
Her parents argued, it was out-of-this-place that bothered.

She had no friends, she left no letters,
She spent her last days praying in stutters,
She had no brother, she had no sister,
She had no pet, she had no listener.

Now her love rots in her grave,
And the ghosts of her broken heart comes her to save.
The magic, the madness, the misery, the plight,
She slept in her grave peacefully after ocean years, in gleeful delight.

Little did you her letters, there were thirty,
Stacked up, now soiled and dirty,
Reading the ordeals of each scar, each mark,
Each comment, each punch, each nightmare that bark.

Little did you know that old woman,
Who lived right across the street,
To whom she would always smile and wave in this world inhuman,
Who realised her absence, just because they couldn't meet.

Little did you know she blames herself,
For the death of her friend,
Whose photo still lies on her shelf,
Whom she made fun of when he came out of the closet, calling it a trend.

Little did you know she was asked by her niece,
How it feels to cut yourself, piece-by-piece,
How demons are the ones with pointy teeth,
And angels have halos, why isn't it a myth.

Little did you know how she felt,
As if she would be noticed more if she left,
As if the pain was in her head,
Like that stupid song that stuck in there.

Little did you know she peered down the terrace,
Counted how much would be considered an overdose of the serum,
Google what was the least painful day to die,
Wondered how many would cry, how many would lie.

Little did you know how she didn't die the first time,
She swallowed some pills and regretted it within a dime.
She made herself throw up, drove to the hospital,
It was after three weeks, she realised how people didn't care if she steered clear.

You had a chance, to hug her worries goodbye,
To ask her to give life a try,
Instead of calling her a disgrace a shame,
That her mental illness was a way to gain fame.

So she prayed to the god, asked the sweet lord,
Will it like if she took her life, or was she a fraud,
Was it a sin to take life so beautiful,
Or a mercy killing, a sacrifice to her demons, a tribute?

So she kissed the old woman's hand, bought her some buns,
Told her niece to study well, fulfil her dreams in the long run,
The niece asked if her aunt would become a star, when she dies, just like everyone?
She told her she would shine bright on her and disappeared into the sun.
                                                   ❞
        
                  ●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～

Okay, so guys know what this poem is about. If you relate to this, I am sorry, I am sorry that this world is so cruel to make you relate to this. I truly am, I can only send virtual hugs because I am an awkward hugger irl.

Last year, a junior of mine committed suicide, at the same time when I was contemplating doing so. Her absence made me realise what people say when you leave.

Suicide is really a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I can't promise that things better when you grow up, but you definitely grow stronger. I'd love you if you hang in there, just like a fighter you are.