Better Off Dead

My skin burns and my fingers are numb,
I'm losing weight, but refuse to eat.
I feel sick and alone, as I silently succumb,
My head is pounding to an invisible beat.

Cry and shake, shake and cry,
Smile and laugh as time goes by.
Pretend that you don't even care,
Look away, just let them stare.

I feel something inside my head,
I know it's not right, but neither am I.
Scrawl the words, "Better off dead",
Watch the ink run, as life passes by.

And I've played this part before,
This happy, friendly, carefree child.
Who they accept, love and adore,
Even though she never smiled.

Cry and shake, shake and cry,
Smile and laugh as time goes by.
Pretend that you don't even care,
Look away, just let them stare.

But today things just aren't going right,
I'm cold, alone and no-one's called.
I was stupid to think that someone might,
Re-trace the words I hatefully scrawled.

"Better off dead"...

I adore this poem.

I understand it all too well!

You have no idea how well I understand; would that I did not, but I do. Would that we knew not the things we know, would that we did not the things we do...

Hmmm... now I think I'm getting an idea for a poem of my own...

It's certainly one of the best poems to grace our board here in a while.

My congratulations, and at the same time, my sympathies.

You really are a poet. I wonder why poets have to suffer to write well... Oh well, I'm glad of it, because at least all my suffering is good for something, to some end, is of some use.

As always, Kashimaya, I understand and appreciate your words and your sharing of them with us here. To mention the obvious, the rest of us would be very much worse off without you here among us. If sensitive, aware people who understand and care leave this mad world, it only makes it colder and more lonely for those of us left behind. Do stay, "stay, until the hasting day has run, until the Evensong."

Stay with us, we are lonely here!

Solidarity... a solidarity of suffering...

A postscript: In the last line of the third quatrain, the word "ink" strikes me as being there as a result of internal editing. If it is blood you mean, use the word.

I think it's a touching little piece of perfection.

Kashimaya, in my reply to your beautiful poem I began a sonnet of my own; I have finished it now and it will be #371.

I will post it now on the Poetry board. I hope you like it.

In #371 I am thinking about Silke, about me, about you, about all of us.

Solidarity, if but a solidarity of suffering.

Shawn, Steve... thank you for even reading this, and responding too.

I'm not sure about "Watch the ink run, as life passes by." I believe maybe it should be edited.

I dislike the word "blood" and don't think it would quite fit. Any other suggestions for this line would be appreciated.

I, myself, shall think of this...

And +SCL ... I'm not going anywhere.

x x x