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Dayzha

@chibirants

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I write some deep shit
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New poem!! I took inspiration from from a motivational reel lolz, trying a new format that I lowkey copied from my friend Zach šŸ™‚ā€ā†•ļø by @chibirants
Since I was a kid, motherhood terrified me. I often told people, ā€œew I hate kids, Iā€™ll never have childrenā€ i didnā€™t feel any maternal instincts as I grew into a woman, being around them made me uncomfortable. I avoided babies at all cost, even holding them made me tense up, i couldnā€™t understand how anyone could look at their little faces and find joy in a drooling pooping baby. I think part of why I pushed away these feelings, was because I knew i couldnā€™t delude myself into believing motherhood would be smart for me. Worried of becoming an absent mother, I was a child brought into the world by parents who shouldnā€™t have had me, foster care, no father, absent mother and an endless cycle of physical and psychological abuse The idea of not being enough for my child was enough to make sure Iā€™d never have one, I canā€™t let myself get too attached to children, knowing how I feel about them. I struggle to understand these feelings of motherhood, to love something so much, something thatā€™s apart of you. Iā€™m too selfish, too focused on myself. But Iā€™m aware, so I wonā€™t make the mistake of bringing a life into the world that I cannot afford to love. My womb will remain empty but my heart will be at peace, even if Iā€™m old and wrinkled. And I think ā€œwell maybe i shouldā€™ve had a kid ā€œ Iā€™ll remember that youā€™re suffering would be greater than my regret. by @chibirants
23 Thatā€™s how old you would be if you were still here today. I lost you four years ago, just around the time you turned 19. So young. You had so many dreams, so many aspirations. All of it left with you on that cold October morning. You know, September and October used to be my favorite months. We share birthdays in September, and October felt like fall, my favorite season. Now itā€™s tainted as the month I lost what mattered most to me, only a few weeks after you turned 19, you passed. For the 19 years you got to spend on this earth, Iā€™m grateful I got to be your sister. To watch you grow into the most caring man. I know if you could see me, youā€™d be proud of how far Iā€™ve come. Of how much Iā€™ve pushed through the pain of life, and losing you on top of it. Sometimes I like to think you are somewhere waiting for me, someplace I canā€™t comprehend. Even as an atheist, I canā€™t help but wonder... Are you somewhere better now? Are you happy? And will I see you again once Iā€™ve met my end? I like to assume so. My mind canā€™t fathom the end for you. That you just died and thatā€™s it. I still celebrate your birthday. The first two years I couldnā€™t bring myself to do it, knowing you couldnā€™t blow out the candles. But Iā€™ll do it for you. I donā€™t know where Iā€™m going in this life, but I will live every minute of it. In your honor. Although my heart is cold, my eyes now take in the beauty of things I never understood before. Losing you meant understanding that life is precious. That moments matter. And as long as Iā€™m here, youā€™ll never really be dead. I carry you with me, from this life to the next. Happy birthday, little brother. I love you. 09/18/2003-10/08/2022 by @chibirants
You wouldā€™ve been 23 but I will always remember you as my 19 year old baby brother. by @chibirants
I donā€™t think people understand how hard this post is for me. Since I was a little girl, I hated the way I looked. Even at my thinnest of 120 pounds I couldnā€™t stand who was looking back at me in the mirror. I gave up on myself. I developed an ED and suffered in silence. Society taught me people like me donā€™t get sympathy or love. That we ā€œlet ourselves go.ā€ That weā€™re gross. Unworthy. For a while, I believed it. On the days I felt guilty for existing, Iā€™d binge. Comfort lived in the taste on my tongue, and shame lived in my body after. At one point I even fantasized about having a different ED. Like maybe if I just ate less, people would finally look at me with compassion. It wrecked my relationship with my body. I wouldnā€™t post below my chest. I edited every photo until I looked ā€œacceptable.ā€ I wouldnā€™t let anyone take my picture, afraid of what people would say behind my backs, laughing at the funny fat friend. So posting these photos now.. This is the bravest thing Iā€™ve ever done. Itā€™s me choosing to love the version of me thatā€™s here today. [also this poem was written during a very difficult period of my life, Iā€™m posting this as a way to grow, to realize I am more than just this body] Took so many pics in this dress but struggled to post them This one I absolutely HATED but the more I stare at is the more I realize Iā€™m becoming the people whoā€™d bully me. Hated this, but itā€™s me. This one is cute Felt like a chud omg My mom took this..šŸ˜­ by @chibirants
ā¤ļøā€šŸ©¹ #poetry by @chibirants
Tried something a little different, small motivational poems? Idk Iā€™m always trying out different forms of expression. I kinda like how simple these are :p #poetry by @chibirants
When little things remind you of them and you have to understand they are gone, knowing youā€™ll never experience those feelings again. by @chibirants
Wrote this a few days ago, Iā€™ve been really into this slam poetry style, reading this out loud at an open mic would quite literally heal me. I definitely plan on attending one this year but not sure when šŸ¤” anyways<3 I love u guyz by @chibirants
The parts of grief no one sees, the endless texts Iā€™ve sent my brother who passed away in 2022. That 11 minute call was the last time we spoke. Hours later, his life was taken by a very selfish person. As the years have progressed, Iā€™ve only found it harder to understand that heā€™s never coming back. Each year it only becomes more real, and my heart canā€™t seem to heal faster than itā€™s breaking. I know this pain will never end. I may be able to manage it. I might even stop the tears from falling. But deep down I know Iā€™ll never have my little brother back, and that reality shatters me. I do everything to make life a little more tolerable, to enjoy the things he never got the chance to, but I just find myself empty. We grew up in a very broken and abusive household, raised together in foster care. He was all I had. Even on days when we felt like life wasnā€™t worth continuing, we clung to each other. Because it reminded me I wasnā€™t alone, I had something, someone worth fighting for. And now heā€™s gone. The one thing that kept me alive, gone in a momentā€™s notice. The worst part is we got in an argument the same night he passed. I remember him apologizing and saying he loved me right before I ended that call. My last words being, ā€œI love you too.ā€ I have to constantly relive those eleven minutes. I love you, Sergio. #siblingloss #grief #poetry by @chibirants
I love going through old writing and revamping it to postšŸ§šŸ»ā€ā™€ļø by @chibirants
šŸ›šŸœšŸŖ³ by @chibirants

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