Micky's Poems

Try Not To Die 2

So here I am again,
Under the light of the moon,
In my little birdcage
In a big, empty room.

All you can hear
Is the sound of my swing,
So instead I imagine
Someone else's song ring.

I imagine they're in here,
Swinging by my side.
We talk for hours and hours,
Even when I don't want to die.

They're always happy to see me,
Telling me how much they love me,
Always with a great hug.
By their side is where I want to be.

But as with all illusions,
This one fades too.
And so I'm back here alone
Under the light of the moon.

I tried to let online words
Impact me in some way,
But it doesn't last long
At the end of the day.

Online for me has been plagued
With secret group chats and rumors,
Constantly spreading around
Like a big, cancerous tumor.

I know what they say about me,
Or at least I can guess.
I can see it on their faces.
They think I'm a mess.

They think I'm deplorable,
Unworthy of redemption.
Any lie is immediately seen as truth,
So I stopped aiming for attention.

They wanted me in their shadows;
They got their wish.
They put me up as a villain;
As disgusting as a rotting fish.

They long for my end
And at times, I do too,
But then the illusion comes along
And I somewhat stop feeling blue.

I tried reaching out,
So I wrote and write and write,
But my writing is illegible,
Try as they might.

It's there in plain English
But no one can read my hand,
Though I don't blame them
For being unable to understand.

So as I sit here
Under the light of the moon,
I can only hope that
Someone physically comes by soon.