#16 Mess

32 10 6
                                    

The light hurts my eyes,
For reasons I don't know,
Maybe because of the darkness in my heart,
Or the blackness that around me does grow.

Whispers seem like screams,
I block my ears but to no avail,
Their voices pierce my heart, so tender,
When my lonely soul over painted waters sail.

They talk of me,
Like I'm a pest,
A denizen from hell,
A colossal mess.

It's war when their eyes meet mine,
But quite one sided if I may add,
My utter defeat each and every time,
Because alas! I have a million reasons to be sad.

Hope is quite a luxury I'd say,
Faith? Almost a miracle,
Happiness is a thing of the past,
Now drifting away on despair's pinnacle.

Would death be a brighter option?
I can't help but wonder,
When life's as dark as the moon,
I can't help but about it ponder.

"What do you think, my friend?"
I asked the wall that with me has stayed,
For all these years that I have been called crazy,
And for eternity have been locked away.

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