Arid

It's so quiet.

Too quiet.

Why can I not hear

My footsteps 

Any longer?

How have I become

Deaf

To my own entity?

Left by myself

To my own duties.

Perhaps it's death,

Sweet death,

Eclipsed only by

The beauty

That is nonexistence. 

But never could I

Be graced by such

Kindness

As death.

I am another person

Death will never love,

That he will never want.

The passage in which I walk

Is dank.

Death do I see here, 

Kissing the girl pressed against the wall

By violent words and angry hands.

Death do I see

In the joint

Passed by the stoned boys

To the innocent one, tempted to take a drag

Death lurking nearby.

Yet still I proceed,

For they're all too loud.

Too naive.

Too alive.

And still I'm quiet,

Silent, even.

Unquestioning.

Uncaring.

Un.

Just un.

It's like I'm breathing air

That doesn't quite reach my lungs,

Suffocating me slowly,

Silently...

And I'm addicted.

I've fallen into a coma

With my eyes wide open,

Thoughts plentiful but clear

Yet heart still quiet,

Mouth closed,

Will absent,

Like I wish I really was.

Stitch my lips shut,

Maybe this bliss will come for me,

Envelop me,

Accept me as it's own.

Oh how the though

Turns me on.

Do it. Take me.

I close my eyes

But the sound returns.

I've fallen back in

With this lot,

These humans.

And I'm ashamed.

I was not great enough

To fade from eternity,

To wash away my ever.

I was not good enough,

I am not good enough.

But there's more

Than one darkness

I can escape to.

So with conviction I grab 

My blade,

And the darkness suffocates me again

In a new way.