Story

I have given up,
I have let go,
in the way only I can,
I have measured myself,
I have weighed myself,
and I,
in my unholy judgement,
I have found myself wanting,
too little,
far too little,
for anyone to care,
I have looked across my life,
across the years,
across the people,
I have no impact of joy,
no love,
or loss at my wondering,
merely freedom.
While I have imagined,
far too many times,
how to end this plight,
whether a poison,
a leap of lack of faith,
or a slice,
to bring peace,
and utter freedom,
if only for myself,
in my selfish,
loneliness,
I daren't pray for myself,
or for those who might,
beyond hope,
dare to hope,
for my salvation.
I have thought,
over many too long a night,
I battled,
I have left scars,
to make the wars,
I have thought,
and pondered,
the depths,
that razor could dare to reach,
I wonder if it could set me free,
I wonder if I would imprison another,
I wonder whether I am the villain,
to my story,
and his,
I wonder if her could be my hero,
or I am doomed,
to be his villain.