Diary of the self.

"Just a cut, just a scratch.
What's that mark?
'It was the cat'.
Just an excuse, just a lie.
What's with all the bracelets?
'Just fashion,why?'
Just a tear, just a scream.
Why were you crying?
'Just a bad dream'.
It's not just a cut or a tear or a lie.
It's just one more until you die.

I lay there bare breasted under a full moon,
looking at the stars.
While wishing the guy next to me
Would see my scars.
Little did he know,
I lounged on a Nebula,
Laughing like stardust in a galaxy no eyes has ever known.

It was his vulnerability that allowed me to soften for him and gave way to these waves that flooded between my legs.
On that magical night, I lost my best friend 'cos we now had "benefits".
But I also made a new friend.

No guy's jawline could ever match his sharp edges.
No man could enter my body like he did.
The ecstasy I felt every time he touched my skin,
Others would consider this as sin.
My body was his canvas
My blood the paint
I am glad I never did faint.

God forgot to complete sculpting me and
This I gave him a chance of touching me.
He was the only friend who stayed, my blade!

If the Moon can have scars, then so can I.
I once loved a guy who left me alone like the Moon dull and dry.
And I made sure I won't cry,
But rather, bleed and die.
"Fake smiles,dried eyes.
Scratched wrists, bruised thighs.
White pills, rope tied.
Gun loaded, suicide."
If I jump, let me sink
If I cut, let me bleed &
If I hang, let me defy gravity.

You make us slit our wrists,
Cut our thighs, hang the ropes, sob and cry.
Take the pills, gun to head,
Congrats society, now we're dead.

We are all looking for some magic.
But little Alice fell down the hole, bumped her head & bruised her soul.
If you think 'cutting' is horrible, then again, so am I.

Self mutilation, scar after scar.
Empty and hollow, won't go far.
Hannah Baker had 13 reasons why, but I have a million reasons why.

In the end, I'm just a suicidal kid asking you to hold onto life.
Because, the sun is up, the sky is blue, it's beautiful and so are you.

😊

Blue

My first memory of blue was
the blue print of my father's palm
on my mother's milk white cheek
It was the structure
on which their marriage was built
Abuse

Art class taught me
Primary colours add up to make secondary colours
But I never knew a black belt,
brown skin
and red blood could paint
navy blue clots
all over my brother's back
Not a patch of brown canvas visible

Half my life
Instructed to be more pink than blue
Because
respect
privilege
honour
power
is for blue

understanding
compromising
coyness
feminine
is for pink

Forced to be pink
i couldnt help
but be blue

But
It is only attractive
When it is, the colour of a woman's eye
Not her thoughts

I carry a heart
Dyed black and blue

blue is pain
But it is also my favourite colour
Because it is
Parachute oil and granny’s head massage
It is the colour which my eyes perceive
when they see the sky
It is colour of the house Ravenclaw
It is my patronus
Because
It is the colour of ink

-Mariyam Saigal

Rejected because "Mental illness"

Let the society be; but what about
friends?
The loyal ones who were faithful once,
Took a path to run because she was no
more fun.
It’s her fault yes, she chose sadness over
friends.
She stayed home and away from her
phone
And when they partied, she slit her
wrists.
Oh, how did they miss?
Friends leave when you’re suicidal.
Bipolar, Anxiety, Depression, BPD what
not..
Who would want a friend with these
when you are out in a gang saying
cheers?
The problem is, nobody wants to be
blamed.
Her friends say,
“If she kills herself, which we're sure she
will because a person like her doesn’t
belong in a happy place.
Sadness is all she is.
And when she’s gone, yes we’ll surely
miss.
But, who wants the blame?
We don’t want to be a reason for her
death.
How can we do our best when she's
always seeking death?
We can’t handle the guilt, yes we
respect the friendship that is built.
But why should we be a reason for her
death?
I don’t want the police interrogating us.
We’d like to stay away from all the
mess.”
She says,
“I wish a friend could stay
And heal this thing away
I wish I had someone to talk
When I’m contemplating suicide as I
walk.
Can some one save me from my own
head?
Help me clean up this mess.
You promised to stay through thick and
thin
But now look at me like a bag full of sin
Can one person help me rise?
Make me stay a little longer without
paying the price ?
Hold my hand and walk along
Or at least be present all along.
Can one person Stay? Can one friend
Stay?
Yes, I might kill myself
But atleast I would have you until I rest.
Can one friend Stay?”

It’s true people love happiness.
Who would love a sad girl?
Who would love a scarred girl ?
None. Even after each rise of the sun.

The heart.

Find yourself first.
You are stardust.
Don't let your heart rust.
You give away
Piece by piece
How much more love
can your heart squeeze?
From between those lips
Love turned into a kiss
But from underneath that skin
It pokes like a pin
Reminding you of that sin.

All I see is that smile
That only lasted a while
Because she was around
And you frowned.

The angels in you
ask for more.
For just some more
smiles to pour.
She can cry you a river
Another can bring you a fever.

Hold on to your heart
I will appreciate this part.
It holds every breath you take
And also the smiles you fake.

Breathe.
Drop the weight.
Unleash those wings.
Take off and never turn back.

-For a Friend.

He loved Blue.

Blue he loved.

But only if it was in its perfect form.
I guess he loves the day 'cos there is more blue  than at night.

But I am the night.

How do I make him love me?
All I can do is bathe him in blue ink and spill him on paper.
Will he love me then?
Maybe I should introduce him to the night where the sky bleeds a tint of blue too.
How will he love me?
Let me take him to the ocean but be careful to see that the sky is still blue too.
But,
What if the sky is Orange?
What if my ink is Black?
What if the night is darkest?
Will he love me still?