You Don't Know My Story

We never know anyone's story,we shouldn't judge,but rather hear them out.

Slit wrists,
A looped rope hanging on the ceiling
His family thinks crazy

But they don't know his story..

His purity taken away at the age of five by his appearent father figure,
He went through most of his life with confusion..
Should he do?
Or should he be the one being done?

Comfort first came with Steve,
And for the first time he had someone with whom he could breathe..
But than he developed feelings for a promiscuos Eve,
She was the carrier of an apple..
An apple not only pleasing to his eye,
But also pleasing to his house of fire..

Little did he know that the apple Eve carried had a worm
And each time he munched away at it,
The worm grew bigger in him than it did in her..

Fast forward the story
Eve fell like the apple that she carried,
Sadly when she hit the ground,
Everyone knew it wasn't gravity
So they opted to put her to sleep,
Six feet underground her current standing.

Unfortunately Eve's worm was already devouring the storyteller,
The more he tried to suppress it from the knowledge of others
The more it seemed to show
The more it got bigger
The more of him it took-

Physically,emptionally,spiritually he was battered
The people scorned him
And turned him into a lampoon
But none of them knew his story,

None of them wanted to hear the story of the homo who'd given them a phobe
And then went straight-into a deadly virus,
None of them wanted to listen to an ex-drug abuser
Or hear the story of a failed suicide attempter..

As he laid on his death bed looking at the hanging loop,
It hit him!
So many were awaiting his timed death..
But he realised something,
Life in itself was a cycle of loops..
Neverending..
The loop on the ceiling would only stop the limits of his body,
But his spirit would live on..somewhere else..

He decided to look straight into the loop
And picture the worm dying..
it fought for it's life as he would've fought for his,
it decided to follow Eve,where ever she had gone to..

He recovered all of himself,
His wounds,seen and unseen,healed..
He paid back the borrowed time with a better life.

Fast forward into his old age,
He lived a different story,
This story had hope,
It was a story we all want to relate to,
A story that the beginning of this one never predicted
He died with a story that only a person with hope would've offered to him.