#30

White

the subtle noise of the rain and 

the scent of wet soil climbed up

to my room that it felt like it meant

to look after me and put me at ease.

distracted by the sound of a downpour,

my mind started to drift. I never felt this calm

wrapping myself to the cold. I felt I'm forgiven

by the ghosts of the night as my witnesses.

collapsed on the damp floor

inside the messy bathroom,

gripping a strange small bottle

until my knuckles turned white

is what they'll find once it's over.

I doubt anyone could

even realize what I'm

about to do at this hour.

I lowered my gaze and

saw my hideous reflection

against the wet surface.

disheveled black hair that passes

both of my shoulder blades,

eyes that resemble of dead fish's,

white lips with busted skin,

a pale complexion caused by anemia,

and a body that has been marked

by the abundance of sinners and victims. 

I hate what I'm seeing.

I despise how angry yet vulnerable

I appear on the smeared ground.

It genuinely makes me want to throw up.

I wanted to scratch it off and erase the reflection 

until it disappears. It suddenly feels itchy

all over my body, I can't pinpoint

where exactly is hurting. And it annoyingly stings.

It aches. It's bleeding. I'm suffocating.

I'll put an end to it. I'm finally gonna do it.

Just when I'm about to open my mouth and drink the chemicals from the tiny container, suddenly a gust of wind reached me and I felt the soft chills at the back of my neck.

"Hang tight," a familiar, low voice echoed in my ears.

Just with those two words, I burst into tears and instinctively threw away the bottle like it burned my palm. I then silently gave my thanks to whatever that tried to stop me. 

ー侘寂.