Enough romantic poetic questions.
This is the time for answers.

My tormentor returned today,
The strain almost broke my mind again.
Took every ounce of strength I had to move.
Now I'm drained, mentally sapped,
Even my bones feel worn.
The tornado of ridiculous thought almost broke down my door.
It took a stranglehold on my rationale.
I almost tapped out, almost gave in.
Then the clouds parted, my was rock reformed,
By a soft reminder of how much I'm loved,
And how much I'd be missed.
;

When you saw me sit with my head in my hands,
When you saw me unshaven and shabbily dressed,
When you saw the smile, that rigid liar's smile,
When you saw me cry, and then laugh on point,
When you saw me suffer in silence,
Did you feel anything? Or see anything at all?
I see it all, feel it all, torture myself with it all.
One kind word or that one question,
Would have changed my life, and maybe would have saved me.
Ask.
Please?

Physical body crashed out on floor, eyes shut tight against the torrent.
Emotional demons battling the ethereal in the theatre of my mind.
The supposed friends, the right choices judged to be wrong by the foresight of conscience.
Damning them all to sections of an imagined chart inside this wretched brain, pondering ridiculous questions.
The hard ones,
The final ones.
Who goes? Who stays? Who lives on?
The process splatters what’s left of my psyche all over the inside of my skull.
Nobody wins, no medal for everyone and no certificate.
There’s no just reward.
Is life about this battle or is the raging battle life?

I can’t!
Did you try?
I won’t!
That’s better.
I lied.
I know.

The finger points up at the stars,
And oftentimes the moon.
The finger wags in admonishment,
And beckons lovers to croon.
The finger points in the face of anger,
And soothes the hurts and burns.
The finger extends from the reapers sleeve,
And draws his clan to mourn.
Don't give the finger too much regard,
It will point at you, in turn.

You should have punched me, it would have hurt less.
You should have left me, I’d have got over it.
You should let me breathe, instead you suffocate.
You should have trusted me, before the love turned to distaste.