Gone Poem by Ashlee VanDyken

They think I don’t hear
The words
That slice through the silence
Of the night air.
Their voices,
A vast continuum of dreaded words.
They speak of regret,
How they wish I were her.
I listen through the cracks
As my sister silently sleeps.
The words swirl through the abyss of time
Inflicting pain on ears that listen.
They do not want me.
So I shall leave,
Not only this home,
But this world.
They want me no longer,
So I shall put them at ease,
And with a razor to my wrist;
I am gone.