Kill Me

Kill me.
This isn’t an attempt at suicide.
This is a request,
For anyone out there,
To hear me out; hear me out, understand,
And do the rightful for the future of this land.

Because as peaceful as this greenery is,
As quiet the whispers of the trees are,
As cheerfully the birds chirp here,
Darkness lurks in each and every corner
And sometimes, panic arises because the black shape is right in front of you,
It is suffocating you, tightening the hold for each struggling breath you take,
And you can’t scream,
Because when someone loves you,
They don’t choke you to death.
Suffocation, terror that scratches at your insides to be let out; it is raw, it hurts,
It makes you want to curl up into yourself,
Hold tightly, don’t let yourself go.

One slip, they warn you, can lead to so much damage,
You will bring this family down, point at us, laugh;
And you will not bring us shame.
Where do you think you are going?
Stop speaking those words,
I will cut your tongue, disable your hands,
Slash at your legs.
What do you think you are doing?
Your place is here,
Your worth is down there,
All because you are the one who reproduces.
Don’t move,
As I teach you how to be a good nurturer,
Care, provide because all you’re supposed to do is give,
A woman never takes, never takes, never takes,
She only gives.
Never forget this,
Remember it like hot iron branded onto your skin,
Like a whip slashing at your open wounds,
Bleed, bleed, bleed,
You must be used to this pain, this blood,
This is your life now,

They taunt me,
Throw at me ropes, books,
Here are your words, here are your ideas,
Can they save you now?
Insanity and sanity are locked in a bitter battle,
There must be a way to escape, a way to save myself,
Read, read, read,
But all these words can do is provide flickers of energy,
I am all on my own, as they surround me,
Suck her energy, rip her books,
Stretch the chains on her soul, it must be repressed, never free
Never free, never free, too dangerous
Those ideas can induce flames,
Those books, survivors and fighters.

As I draw upon the very last whispers of my strength,
I pity the one before me.
She was here, too
They say it didn’t take much time for her,
She was good, a kind soul; till the darkness consumed her,
And now, she loves me, she protects me from the world,
She sustains me, I owe her my life,
But some days, she looks at me
And all I can see is the darkness,
Because you can scrub all you want,
But that stain is on your heart, and it is spreading,
And the more you try,
The more it bleeds, it hurts, please stop.
And on these days,
She doesn’t hear my pleas, recognise my tears,
Mother, mother,
Please, try to remember, try to remember the injustice that makes your skin crawl,
The frustration at being given a broken ladder to climb
All because you don’t need to climb.
You sustain, you don’t climb,
You provide, you don’t climb,
Don’t forget that I gave you life, where’d you have been without me?
You’re a fool with a broken ladder,
Claw at the skies all you want,
But you’ll be back on the ground,
Because that’s where you belong.
Because you’re a woman.
Because if you don’t suffer, you aren’t a woman.

And when you start to see black spots, that’s when you know,
That’s when you know that there is no hope left anymore,
Tears streaming,
You just want the pain to stop,
So you let the blackness encroach into your soul, a tendril at a time.
Hear me out, stranger,
This isn’t an attempt at suicide,
Because the same hand that was supposed to nurture and protect,
Is slowly tightening, it is smiling at my tears,
Because this is supposed to be for my good.
Don’t worry, I will thank them in the future.
I am a human after all, at my worst moment I am a woman,
Untethered, ripped at my soul and so very tired,
I want this to stop, please stop,
So I fell.

Hear me out, understand,
And do the rightful for the future of this land.
This isn’t an attempt at suicide,
This is a request.
Kill me.

Amal Raju currently works as a researcher at a private equity firm and is a Master’s graduate in Economics. In her spare time, she combines what she has learnt through books and seen through daily interactions to write personalised snippets and poetry.

Featured image: Maan Limburg / Unsplash