Treasure Island

Justin Reamer

(2 October 1993 / Holland, Michigan)


What is there to be done
In this wretched world as
My heart tears to shreds,
Evoking the tears in my eyes,
Gushing like torrential waterfalls
From an elevated mountaintop?
What consolation is there for me
As I seek help for the pain in
My chest that consumes my flesh and
Destroys my soul?

Nothing, nothing can be done,
For the world has vanquished me,
And I, it, a blank slate,
Forever to be washed away and
Vade from existence.
I am nothing, I am no one;
No one can help me except
For those who know my pain.
But little by little,
I deteriorate as the monster
In my nightmares tears me limb from limb.

There is no consolation for me,
For I lie here, dying,
Aging, deteriorating, and decaying,
Until Death finally comes for me,
Knocking at my door,
Meaning I am no more.

Submitted: Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, February 18, 2014

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