Bedroom

If I were to drop dead at this very moment; 
To stop breathing;
To cease movement;
To sacrifice the will to live,
Would anyone notice?
Would anyone care?
Would anyone join me in the lonely After of life?
Would anyone know me if I were to die?
Would they know My Sarcasm?
Would they know My Jokes? 
Would they know the part of me that laughs?
The part of me that cries?
Would they know
--would they understand--
the intricate, profound puzzle that I am?
Would they empathize with the unfinished sentences and un-dotted I's that make up My Story? 
Would they get the bold red and vibrant blacks that fill My Art?
Would they know  get  understand care about
the adverse melody and enchanting harmony of My silent Soundtrack.
Listen. 
Can you hear it?
The screaming remnants of a soul torn by too much, too many?
Look.
Can you see it?
The colossal Blade that slashes a hole, deeper and deeper, into my heart, into my morality, for every lie that is uttered, every sin that is committed?
Stop.
Can you picture it?
The tragic monster that plays with my life, my conscience, my head?
The beautiful beast that generates movements of regret and despair with limbs and words I cannot control?
Breathe.
Can you feel it?
The thing that they call "LOVE"?
If I were to depart from this world of masks,
If I were to drop dead at this very moment,
would anyone notice that it is I who is gone?

Author's Note

Feedback is always appreciated--good or bad. And please pardon any grammatical errors I may have overlooked.