Slivers of Darkness

I’m done writing this note
I’m done being here,
Where critical eyes never sleep
But reason is blind

I have been here too long
Memories still pierce my heart
With every sliver of its being
My past hates itself in the mirror
So it fixed my inequities on darts board
And used my heart as a bulls eye
A target for all ill will begets

I knew no one cared
I knew they marveled
In my distress
I knew they cowered in fear
When my victories seemed near

Tell them they won
Tell them I couldn’t fight them
Because I spent my life
Fighting the guilt they
Bestowed upon me
A weight for weary being

Remind them of the dark days
The blind mornings
When unfathomable darkness
Sojourned in my soul
And made it home

Tell them of the swollen eyes
And damp pillows
Remind them;
Of the crimson kitchen floor
Of Blood stained razors
Of ripped wrists
Of sore eyes
And crow’s-feet beneath them

Did they know how it felt?
To search for belonging in this weary world
Remind them when ‘different’ changed meaning
Different meant inferior,
Not enough,
Looser,
Cunt,
Suspect,
And synonyms

How costly belonging is?
Even smoking weed
Couldn’t afford it
Even buying them drinks
Couldn’t afford it
They were friends until I had them drunk
Then they’ll insult me
For buying them too much!

What of the answers I sought?
I can’t wait for the answers
It’s time to go
Don’t let them read my obituary
I wrote the last edition of my suicide note
Let them read it instead!

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