35000
3
Many could try to presume
That I live on the moon
Just because my thoughts are out of this world
And my verbiage is hard to consume
My words could be plenty
But I prefer that
Than to be mentally empty
I try to confess my stress
But many don’t read or listen long enough
To actually let me
So I sit here and fret
Many poems before even written
I always seem to forget
For my mind is weary
My eyes are teary
And my blood is my sweat.
I sometimes get so consumed
With the variety of thoughts in my head
Some wish my family a better life
But that could only happen if I was dead
For my lack of existence
They would have so much more gain
Even if for just a little while
They would deal with some pain
Some pain of my loss
They would deal with temporary
They don’t know if my sickness
Is genetic & hereditary
Doctor visits, getting pricked for blood tests
And MRI’s galore
Three years has passed
And my symptoms have grown to be more!
I’m tired of being here
If all I have to wake up to is this falsified bliss
I must tell you though
That I still remain
For the chance to see my daughters smile and from her get a kiss
If it were not for her, this temple of mine
Would have long been a vessel destroyed
Because although married to the love of my life
That doesn’t stop my pain from getting me agitatingly annoyed!
Feeling hatred breed with anger within
For not knowing why my pain continues to grow
At this point I have yet to reap any rewards
For all of the seeds that I did sow
And just so all of you arbitratingly awaiting the last of me
I still hold on to this rope of sand
Which solidifies with the tears that fall from my daughter’s eyes
As I grip tightly onto her hand
Her tears and her cries
Make me mortified
Thus I can not slit my wrist and leave her behind
For that would be not only selfish but dumb
And the last thing I desire for my daughter
Is to grow up to be anti-social and emotionally numb.
And so, although completely overwhelmed and confused
Death by my own hands will be repeatedly refused!
SkTzO
