deepundergroundpoetry.com
i was her and she was me
festering, festering, torn in two
i watch my heart flop feebly to the floor.
.... i love you, i love you, i̵̢͜ lo̧v͟e ͠y̴̸͡ou̸͜͞ s̶ǫ̸ ̨m̛ų̕c̡͟͟h̕͏.
but there is so much pressure, so much dependence.. how can.......... a҉n͏d̸̢ ̛͞i͜ ̵͏ç͡ąn'̶̕t҉̶͘ ̸͏a̧͞ny̶mo҉҉r͞é̢͟.̢
s t o p. i am just a child, just a child. A CHILD.
I, never, never, never, never never asked for this never.
it flashes behind flickering eyelids and jabs me cruelly.
s̷͓͕̼h̪̖͇͘͢è̗͙͚̱̫̱̟̹͡'̹̞̦̞̪͝s̲̦̖̝̦̀͝͡ ̟͈͖̣͉͔̀͞n̨̤̯͎̝̘͕̩o̷̴̭͕̼t̞̻͇ ̠̟͚̘̬̱͚̼̹̀c̛҉̱̗̙̰o̴̥͕͖̱̜̳̬̻͡ḿ̸̼̠̙̯̬ͅį̣̼͕͉̭̭̼̦̻͞n̢͏̯̼̭g̢̲̕͝ ͕̗̩̗͍̟́b̯̘͕̥̟͓̫̹a̸̛̠̦̮̰̱͢c͕̼̜͘k͕̖̻͎̼̟̣͓̭̀
i could have stopped it, saved it, said... DON'T DWELL IN THE.........................
ś̛̩̲̦̙̥͘i͝͏̖͖̼̩͓ș͚̪́t͔͜e̶͖̬̫͔r̵̷̰͔,̸̩̮̗̤̖͠ ̦͓͉̺ͅș̡͟į̪̝̀s̸͕̟̲̭̜̜͟t̮̩̰̲̕ͅe̸̠̣̕͜r̨͙̤̣͇̮͕̪̘̕,̨͓͞͠ ̛͔̜̯s̷̭͖̻͍̯͕͔͠i̧͍̣̙̗̘̩s̛̙͕̥̞͚͜t̹̠e͉̖̘̪͉̹̤r͇͓̟̱̦̪̩͍͡,̶̰̱̱͕̬̣́͡ ̰̦̠̀͟s҉̢҉͖̺̼͖i̟̥͓͎̦̱͖̺ș̥͈̪t͏̧̗̮̪͍̙ͅe̶͓̟̩̻͢͝ͅr̹͘͜,̟̼̝ ̷̥̳̳̠̣ͅͅs̤̪͚̥̼͈į̘̤͇͚̭̀͢s̢̞͎͙͔̟͝ͅt̤̼̲̱ȩ̛̜̥r̨̢̦̩̭͔͕̘͟.͏͇̭̙͓.͙͝.͍͙̼.̨͉ ̧͖̳͚́͡S̢̨̻A͉̰͙̤͙V̧̖̹͕͉̪̺̹̩͞E̦͍ ̨͓H͙͍̝̻͕̠͡E҉̗͍̳͘R̸̫͍̹̱̼̣̣͢.̧̮͈̮̗͍͉́
past.. it's past and there's no going..
but if i could. i would and i would rip it out, all of it..
t̶̢̙̼̥͈̤͘ͅo̶̰̻̟̘̟̬̣ ͓̀s̷̨͍̻̩͈̲͉̱̠͝a̸̬̲͓̬v͈͍̠͉̟͎ȩ̷̘̼̳̀ ̶̣͖h̛̜̼̤̜͔̹̺e̟̮͡͡r̢̢͍͉̪̞͕ ̢̭͉ṣ͕͇o̹͎̱̻͡ṷ͈̥̙̘̭̺͡l̵̪̜̦͜.̵̪̠͈͇͇̻͢.̡͓̙͖̗̻͙.̶̞̬̻
̵̘͎̗̣̀͘
̡͔̟̞̼W͙̖͠R̥̮E͎̗͚͠N҉̤̼C͉̰̞H̢̛͚̞̪ͅE̛͎̹͈̤̜̣̭̰D̛̞̗̬̘̱̝̤̩.̬͝͝.̷̺̦̦̬̥͔͚́ͅ.̦̺̭ͅ ̸̬̘̤͘n̢͈͟͞ọ̵̺̺̝͎̰̼͜͜ͅ,̬͕̫̟̳͍̰͟ ̜̥̤̳̦̹͈̕͟ͅp͏̮͖̺̻̗̀l̠̗̞͎͠e̸̫̣͍͍̦͉̥a̶̱͍s̪͇͎e͚͍̱̞̠̳̰͜͞ͅͅ.̧̹̜̣̬̻͢.̗̜̭̤̻̹ ̣͖̤̗̥̹d͕̲̳̼̯̲̱͘͝ͅo͏҉͕̦n͕͈͘͠͞'̥̮̣̯̯͈͚͜͟ͅț͇̭̣̜̕͝ ̶̡͙̠͎̮͔̬͖͕͎͠l͕̣̗̥͎̝͝e̻͍̼̮͖á̗̬̠̲̮͚̗̩ṿ̳͕͓̰̞̼̝e̢̝̭ ̖͈̜͈m̩̭̀̀ͅe҉͖̺͍̥͓̫̫.̞͔̫̱̻͠
i could have saved you, could have, couldhavecouldhav
i can't even save myself m̛̥̘̺͔̮̩͘ý̜̫͙̝̟̳̦͇̭́͟s̺̳͖̩̞̗̗̺͜ẹ͚̦̗̤l҉̪͇͈͕͓͠ͅf̞̹̭̤.͏̨̪̺̬̖̝̠͉͎.̞̲̜͙͓̰̳.̷҉̞͍̝ ̗͖̺̻͓̗m̴̸̡̖̻̖͎͚͍y̵̴̳͚̥s̨̹̦̟̩̠̲̝̫e̹̫̹̭̬̦̼l̻̮͚͡ͅf̪̫̬̠̼͇͓̘.̴̧̝̞͔͕̰̫͇.̡͎͔̝̥.̸̨̩͠ ̱M̛͚̦̺̝Y̟̟̲̼̮͔̫̻S̹͝͞E͏̤̟͚̳̩̜̦̻L̵̨̞̠͎͍̀F̢̻͙͖͓.̵̴̙̳̪͙̝̭
t͕̺ͫ̑ͦͯͤͩ̆̂h͈̫̖̞̤͖̙̫ͩ̎̐̚e̼̜̣͍͇̱̯̍ͨ̾̌r̗͚̪̪͓̯̘̬͍̒̈̏ͤͪ̈́e̺̬͊̎̿ ̠̅ͧi͚̖̦͇͗̎̐͛̈ͭͅͅs̱͓͔̼̝͌̽ ̝͎̬̯̼̣̔̅́n̮̣͖̮̗̫̬͂̽͛ͨͪͦo̲͖ͩ̄̆͒̏̀ͬͧͅ ̼̘̖̪͉̹̪̦ͦͭ̈́̔ͩ̃̊ͅm͎̳̪͎̣̖͂͑̿͌̅ͫͩ̃̆e̱͕̪̠ͣ͋̅ͧ̀̌̌̈ ̠̼̦̜̮͕͒̉ͬͭ̅̐̚ͅa̗̗̰͔̫̼̓͑ͫn̪̱̋̍y̖͚̯̬̻͕̮̆̅̒̃̒̄m̺͐̌o̖̣̞̗͔͓̣͙̖̍͆̍ͥr͎̮ͣ̓̉̊ͭͬ̓̏̐e͍̙̼͕͓͚̟͆̆̑ͪ͗̈ͫ̚.̻͇̤̯͚̇̈.̩̙̩͉̉̅̂.̗̜̦̹̈́ͬ̽̆͆̈ ̯̣̘̣̬̬̗̜̥̇͒ͯ̍ͤ̅w̮̹̥̲̟̄ͪ̀̉̉ͥ͐̄ͅḧ͔̩͇́ͤͦ̅̑̔͆̆ͅo̘ͭ̑ͨ͊ͅ ̮̗̣̯̿̀͆̿a̭̻̬͕̗̬͛̀ͤ̃ͦ̂͂̓̋m̲̪̤̰̣̭ͮ́ͅ ̠͕͙̬͌͊͐̓̈́ͥ͋̚Î̙̤̺̹̟̻̹͔̏ͭ̓̽̈?͉͉̟̈́͆̈̏
who am I?
W H O
A M
I?
i was her and she was me.
i watch my heart flop feebly to the floor.
.... i love you, i love you, i̵̢͜ lo̧v͟e ͠y̴̸͡ou̸͜͞ s̶ǫ̸ ̨m̛ų̕c̡͟͟h̕͏.
but there is so much pressure, so much dependence.. how can.......... a҉n͏d̸̢ ̛͞i͜ ̵͏ç͡ąn'̶̕t҉̶͘ ̸͏a̧͞ny̶mo҉҉r͞é̢͟.̢
s t o p. i am just a child, just a child. A CHILD.
I, never, never, never, never never asked for this never.
it flashes behind flickering eyelids and jabs me cruelly.
s̷͓͕̼h̪̖͇͘͢è̗͙͚̱̫̱̟̹͡'̹̞̦̞̪͝s̲̦̖̝̦̀͝͡ ̟͈͖̣͉͔̀͞n̨̤̯͎̝̘͕̩o̷̴̭͕̼t̞̻͇ ̠̟͚̘̬̱͚̼̹̀c̛҉̱̗̙̰o̴̥͕͖̱̜̳̬̻͡ḿ̸̼̠̙̯̬ͅį̣̼͕͉̭̭̼̦̻͞n̢͏̯̼̭g̢̲̕͝ ͕̗̩̗͍̟́b̯̘͕̥̟͓̫̹a̸̛̠̦̮̰̱͢c͕̼̜͘k͕̖̻͎̼̟̣͓̭̀
i could have stopped it, saved it, said... DON'T DWELL IN THE.........................
ś̛̩̲̦̙̥͘i͝͏̖͖̼̩͓ș͚̪́t͔͜e̶͖̬̫͔r̵̷̰͔,̸̩̮̗̤̖͠ ̦͓͉̺ͅș̡͟į̪̝̀s̸͕̟̲̭̜̜͟t̮̩̰̲̕ͅe̸̠̣̕͜r̨͙̤̣͇̮͕̪̘̕,̨͓͞͠ ̛͔̜̯s̷̭͖̻͍̯͕͔͠i̧͍̣̙̗̘̩s̛̙͕̥̞͚͜t̹̠e͉̖̘̪͉̹̤r͇͓̟̱̦̪̩͍͡,̶̰̱̱͕̬̣́͡ ̰̦̠̀͟s҉̢҉͖̺̼͖i̟̥͓͎̦̱͖̺ș̥͈̪t͏̧̗̮̪͍̙ͅe̶͓̟̩̻͢͝ͅr̹͘͜,̟̼̝ ̷̥̳̳̠̣ͅͅs̤̪͚̥̼͈į̘̤͇͚̭̀͢s̢̞͎͙͔̟͝ͅt̤̼̲̱ȩ̛̜̥r̨̢̦̩̭͔͕̘͟.͏͇̭̙͓.͙͝.͍͙̼.̨͉ ̧͖̳͚́͡S̢̨̻A͉̰͙̤͙V̧̖̹͕͉̪̺̹̩͞E̦͍ ̨͓H͙͍̝̻͕̠͡E҉̗͍̳͘R̸̫͍̹̱̼̣̣͢.̧̮͈̮̗͍͉́
past.. it's past and there's no going..
but if i could. i would and i would rip it out, all of it..
t̶̢̙̼̥͈̤͘ͅo̶̰̻̟̘̟̬̣ ͓̀s̷̨͍̻̩͈̲͉̱̠͝a̸̬̲͓̬v͈͍̠͉̟͎ȩ̷̘̼̳̀ ̶̣͖h̛̜̼̤̜͔̹̺e̟̮͡͡r̢̢͍͉̪̞͕ ̢̭͉ṣ͕͇o̹͎̱̻͡ṷ͈̥̙̘̭̺͡l̵̪̜̦͜.̵̪̠͈͇͇̻͢.̡͓̙͖̗̻͙.̶̞̬̻
̵̘͎̗̣̀͘
̡͔̟̞̼W͙̖͠R̥̮E͎̗͚͠N҉̤̼C͉̰̞H̢̛͚̞̪ͅE̛͎̹͈̤̜̣̭̰D̛̞̗̬̘̱̝̤̩.̬͝͝.̷̺̦̦̬̥͔͚́ͅ.̦̺̭ͅ ̸̬̘̤͘n̢͈͟͞ọ̵̺̺̝͎̰̼͜͜ͅ,̬͕̫̟̳͍̰͟ ̜̥̤̳̦̹͈̕͟ͅp͏̮͖̺̻̗̀l̠̗̞͎͠e̸̫̣͍͍̦͉̥a̶̱͍s̪͇͎e͚͍̱̞̠̳̰͜͞ͅͅ.̧̹̜̣̬̻͢.̗̜̭̤̻̹ ̣͖̤̗̥̹d͕̲̳̼̯̲̱͘͝ͅo͏҉͕̦n͕͈͘͠͞'̥̮̣̯̯͈͚͜͟ͅț͇̭̣̜̕͝ ̶̡͙̠͎̮͔̬͖͕͎͠l͕̣̗̥͎̝͝e̻͍̼̮͖á̗̬̠̲̮͚̗̩ṿ̳͕͓̰̞̼̝e̢̝̭ ̖͈̜͈m̩̭̀̀ͅe҉͖̺͍̥͓̫̫.̞͔̫̱̻͠
i could have saved you, could have, couldhavecouldhav
i can't even save myself m̛̥̘̺͔̮̩͘ý̜̫͙̝̟̳̦͇̭́͟s̺̳͖̩̞̗̗̺͜ẹ͚̦̗̤l҉̪͇͈͕͓͠ͅf̞̹̭̤.͏̨̪̺̬̖̝̠͉͎.̞̲̜͙͓̰̳.̷҉̞͍̝ ̗͖̺̻͓̗m̴̸̡̖̻̖͎͚͍y̵̴̳͚̥s̨̹̦̟̩̠̲̝̫e̹̫̹̭̬̦̼l̻̮͚͡ͅf̪̫̬̠̼͇͓̘.̴̧̝̞͔͕̰̫͇.̡͎͔̝̥.̸̨̩͠ ̱M̛͚̦̺̝Y̟̟̲̼̮͔̫̻S̹͝͞E͏̤̟͚̳̩̜̦̻L̵̨̞̠͎͍̀F̢̻͙͖͓.̵̴̙̳̪͙̝̭
t͕̺ͫ̑ͦͯͤͩ̆̂h͈̫̖̞̤͖̙̫ͩ̎̐̚e̼̜̣͍͇̱̯̍ͨ̾̌r̗͚̪̪͓̯̘̬͍̒̈̏ͤͪ̈́e̺̬͊̎̿ ̠̅ͧi͚̖̦͇͗̎̐͛̈ͭͅͅs̱͓͔̼̝͌̽ ̝͎̬̯̼̣̔̅́n̮̣͖̮̗̫̬͂̽͛ͨͪͦo̲͖ͩ̄̆͒̏̀ͬͧͅ ̼̘̖̪͉̹̪̦ͦͭ̈́̔ͩ̃̊ͅm͎̳̪͎̣̖͂͑̿͌̅ͫͩ̃̆e̱͕̪̠ͣ͋̅ͧ̀̌̌̈ ̠̼̦̜̮͕͒̉ͬͭ̅̐̚ͅa̗̗̰͔̫̼̓͑ͫn̪̱̋̍y̖͚̯̬̻͕̮̆̅̒̃̒̄m̺͐̌o̖̣̞̗͔͓̣͙̖̍͆̍ͥr͎̮ͣ̓̉̊ͭͬ̓̏̐e͍̙̼͕͓͚̟͆̆̑ͪ͗̈ͫ̚.̻͇̤̯͚̇̈.̩̙̩͉̉̅̂.̗̜̦̹̈́ͬ̽̆͆̈ ̯̣̘̣̬̬̗̜̥̇͒ͯ̍ͤ̅w̮̹̥̲̟̄ͪ̀̉̉ͥ͐̄ͅḧ͔̩͇́ͤͦ̅̑̔͆̆ͅo̘ͭ̑ͨ͊ͅ ̮̗̣̯̿̀͆̿a̭̻̬͕̗̬͛̀ͤ̃ͦ̂͂̓̋m̲̪̤̰̣̭ͮ́ͅ ̠͕͙̬͌͊͐̓̈́ͥ͋̚Î̙̤̺̹̟̻̹͔̏ͭ̓̽̈?͉͉̟̈́͆̈̏
who am I?
W H O
A M
I?
i was her and she was me.
Published 22nd Jan 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 1
comments 4
reads 706
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
this is the story of my little sister: xaria and my harrowing journey through her short lived life - she died of cancer. i was merely a child when the duty of her tiny life was thrust upon me and though it was one I took upon willingly; it forever has changed the way i view life.
if you've never lost a loved one, the pain may fade.. but it does not disappear.
if you've never lost a loved one, the pain may fade.. but it does not disappear.
23rd Jan 2018 2:25am
First, I'm sorry for your loss. Poetry, as a medium is bare and honest. I always considered poets courageous, and you are particularly brave. Thank you for your poem. It's intensity makes it an incredible read.
12th May 2018 9:17am
i feel...i feel...i want...to come in...and...kiss...that heart...gently...weep...away...into that pain...to share...the weight...i just feel...as though...you...made it known...in.a.way...the soul could...not...i...feel..it...i...feel..too...
12th May 2018 9:22am
