Memory on a Box

There are moments when nothing can go wrong,

and times when nothing can go right

Tears are insignificant, sleep and the ability to focus evade me

No one can possibly understand

I cannot even begin to describe the blur of thoughts and feelings filling my body

Drenching my very heart and soul, yet my heart is just a pawn

That stingy drench, as annoying as sweat, is what my tears reek of

The drip of my soul flows from my eyes like diseased rivers filled with plague

Yet those rivers are absorbed through my pores to once again soak my being

Simple scissors and everyday knives of the kitchen are outlets, escapes

They are small doors, and if I turn just the right way, push just a little harder, go a little deeper, and slice a little longer

I might exit through them

I might be able to slip away

Finally let the darkness that searches for cracks in my will, take over and cover me

Numb me, let me recede into its open armed shadows

Take it all away; end my suffering, my nothingness

Let me fear myself no more

Let me fear the monstrosity I could become no more

Oh how I welcome that darkness, for as soon as it seeps into one of my cracks, a break in my willpower

All of the suffering shall end

I both welcome it and fear it, as

when it comes,

Oh that desperate day that I embrace,

I will be but a memory

A picture 'pon a box, surrounded by roses and tears