Extricate

After I was born, my mother got cancer.

So I’m like a cancer upon the world.

Even though they removed it from her,

nobody extricated ME.

I was born by choice,

by love.

By the only person that loved me,

and shouldn’t have.

So I grew up with my own illnesses,

they’re in my head

and it’s kill or be killed.

Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve been killed.

Things happen that aren’t “supposed to”.

Like the kindest people in the world

suffocating on their inflicted sadness, existence

suffocating on nicotine for relief

so as not to suffocate their bodies to blue.

I never found out how to snuff it out

how to murder it and watch its blood run

as if it were something tangible that could be killed.

It isn’t.

I will not love myself.

You guys got me long ago.

I’m freezing blue, my friend.

If Abraham’s God were real,

may he condemn you to hell!

and me to the blue.

FORSAKEN

conspirator, you.

Reviews

[iamshadowine]

There's so much pain and anger behind this poem! I loved the use of words, and how this poem began!
"After I was born, my mother got cancer.

So I’m like a cancer upon the world.

Even though they removed it from her,

nobody extricated ME."

i really really loved those lines. It totally got me onto thinking so much! :D

keep writing :D