ｔｅｍｐｏｒａｒｙ ⇒ 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥

Dead light

By ElectricBlueMadness
A poem from my langst book.
I'm not that good at poems.
But (deep breath in), here goes.
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Warnings: Depression, Suicide
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Dead light

I really feel like I wanna die.
Thrashing in a riptide.
Drown my fading sobs in an ocean.

I really feel like I wanna die.
Fade into the night.
Hang in the shade of an oak tree.

I really feel like I wanna die.
Set all our pages alight.
Burn the book we've created.

All my friends had tried.
Even the Suicide Hotline who I call every night.
No one can see the lamp I put out.
Even when I'm about to end my life.

Like Icarus and Daedalus tried.
One dies the other fights.
Hot wax burns sin.

Sobbing in a pillow panicking.
Looking at my arms in dressing.
A canvas of red lines filling.
Wondering.
Can I hurt or kill myself with that thing?

These feet roam the halls one last time.
They echo in the corridors.
Ashamed and crying over simple ignorance.
Shaking and trembling.
My hands are quaking.
Ink and quill skating.
Over my last paper.
Debating.
Is this the deal I'm taking?

Pale but firm, it's my turn.

To trade my dying spark.

For a dead light.
At precisely midnight.

I made a deal for a dead light.