I sit here,
Waiting here all my life,
For some moment of happiness
To come along and sweep me away off my feet;
Yet I wait here all along for something to happen,
And nothing ever comes except for these
Very long moments of despair.
Who am I? What am I doing here?
It was so long ago that you left me,
Left me standing here because you
Believed you were too good for me,
For though I am autistic,
You thought I was incapable of loving you,
The most beautiful woman in the world.
God knows how many people have betrayed me,
How many people have hurt me because
They simply thought I was different
Or stupid or disabled,
Making me look like an ingrate
Or an invalid of sorts.
My friends, or so they called themselves,
Left me to die here in the street,
Where I will never find happiness,
For they all left me in high school,
And they persecuted me ever since my freshman year.
And you, you were one of them,
For though you loved me,
And as I loved you,
You still betrayed me,
And you thought yourself too good for me,
And you left me here to die,
To starve every day,
Wondering when I will get my next meal,
To thirst every hour,
Wondering when I will get my next drink,
To freeze and lose homeostasis,
Wondering when I will find warmth,
And to suffer depression,
For life seems so morose and desolate,
There is no point in living.
I will tell you that I will not
Be waiting for you to come back,
For even if you are guilty,
You will not find me,
For I will no longer be here,
For you will probably find my corpse.
I am going to end my miserable life,
And I will make sure that I will not
Live another moment of this torture.
So, you will never see me,
And to heaven or hell,
To which I may go,
But whatever it may be,
It will be better than what I now know.
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Comments about this poem (Suicide by Justin Reamer )
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