I Begin This Poem On A Note Of Pain To What Might Seem As A Self-journey On A Route To Giving Up

I have tried enough to hold this heart from falling.
Hope is an assurance that slips away from me gradually.

Today, I’m a blurry shadow fading back into myself. & tomorrow,
I’m half-dead & half-alive walking amidst people.

On this journey to self-recovery, nothing recovers me.
Instead, I’m a full bread of grief reducing into crumbs.

In the landscape of my mind, I think of so many things:
Home, my dead father, my widowed mother & my siblings.

Say, they keep this body moving from crashing completely.

Last year, I moved to another city I never knew her length of hardship.
Each route I take to becoming beautiful finds me absorbing a mole of
sadness in a little body as mine.

Sometimes I cut myself with a blade…