I stay awake into the wee hours of night
Trying to find an aid to my plight.

Holding the blade to my throat
My eyes keep scanning over the letter I wrote.

The words become blurry the harder I press
Believing that this is the only escape, as I am, a man in distress.

They say I’m not well,
That in this realm of sorrow and shadows I must not dwell.

They are wrong.

The darkness is where I thrive
It feeds me, empowers me, keeps my spirit alive

This has become my life
Living from strife to strife

This has to stop.


Tonight.