Poem: Fool’s Error

(My feelings; the why; every reason I killed Cat Hartliebe. Try again. And again. Because the only way out is forward.)

Trigger Warning!

It’s complicated…

Suicidal Ideation; Abuse

Fool’s Error

ever since i can remember
ive always wanted to be a mother
the father didnt matter
or so i thought
because who really cares
when you have a spirit
agreeing its the best idea

but spirits do not help raise
this child hasn’t seen good days
its been poor since the beginning
life around us is hell as well
people treat him special
and really he is special

his heart is pure gold
if only he wasn’t always
looking to tarnish it

i gave up everything
that’s the fools beginning
to give up everything
for a creature that doesn’t exist
who never asked to be alive
yet he did
i can remember his soul
cyro the little hatched dragon
begging for a real chance
to give him such a real chance
would mean something
i have nothing
how can i give things i dont have?

so many spirits have given me hope
yet they don’t offer money
nor a job
nor a life
nor support
i keep giving them everything
i give everyone everything i have
only to get nothing in return
life is hard
i can’t do it
i can’t keep it up.
im so tired…

who thought this would be a good idea
to have a child
as a single parent
i didnt think id be single
i was engaged
to both males who offered me child
and id probably stupidly do it again
if i could have a few weeks of happiness
a life of hell
its not worth it
i regret everything

i regret so much
i gave up my degree
i gave up science
and i gave up modeling for science
only to give up science for child
and child offers nothing but stress and hell
what is wrong with me?
i cant do this
i am done with life
im done with everything
spirits be damned.
theyre not helping me eat
or live
or even dance again.
im so tired.

being connected to life
to death
to the earth and the sky
its the worst
because of how much damage is done.
i need to leave
i need to leave everything behind
please stop expecting me to do anything
im done
im so tired
i cant.
I just cant.

i dont even have the strength to write
out of everything
how can i lose that?
i didnt think it was possible
to lose the ability to write
when i was trapped in the hospital
or the dorm room
or the office room
i could write
even if i should be doing other things
i could write
it was always there
its not there anymore.
im so tired.
im sick
im dying
why cant i just die.
im ready to just die.
i need to die.

(Death is never the proper answer, but I’m having a hard time finding another at the moment. And this isn’t even a new poem. This is several months old. My decision to kill Cat Hartliebe took a lot more time than you realize. But I hid it. Hoping maybe tomorrow it would prove worth while.)

[Poetry Archive]

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