What If I Told You I Wanted To Kill Myself?

By Nikita Kanjani

What if I told you I wanted to kill

myself

Instead of screaming out for help in

Intricate words I carefully craft into

poetry?

What if I told you about sliding a silver

blade, poisoned by the kiss of

death at its tips

across my delicate, soft arms that you never knew

Were scarred,

until the vermilion vanishes?

And what if I told you that every time I saw a

rope,

I would imagine death around its hoop,

Waiting for my neck with its open arms?

Would you still say my words are breathe-taking

and elegant?

Or would you stay silent

And quiet

Because you never, truly understood

What were my words trying to

Scream?

Would you blame me, and say

It’s my fault my words confused you

too much? Or maybe

It’s because I hide it so well

That my pain becomes a euphemism in the eyes

of others?

Or would you go and read the letters

I italicised

Specifically,

For you?

By Nikita Kanjani