Did I Make It Out Alive? Poem by Neb Lagoudcam

Sorry mom,
Sorry dad,
Sorry sis'
Sorry, bro'
Sorry I sit sorrowful, wondering, why?
I'm not dead, but at a dead stand
Confused about life's demands, what's the true answer?
Life's about living the fullest,
I think.
Meanwhile I spend mine learning to become a construction worker,
because someday I will succumb to building my own grave.
I prosper from an echo chamber because that's the only thing I'll ever hear,
From ear to ear,
A void, an abyss, I've heard it all before
I'm not special
Stop being coy.
'We live to die'
No purpose? ,
I think.
The devil's contract
Little known, I dove for that comfort.
Addiction. I thought my will was tough as nails.
Encumbered in my ecstatic discontent, I slam my head against the wall, 'WHY DIDN'T I LET IT ALL GO...'
--
'SOMEBODY HELP ME! ! ! '
It echoed,
I think.
Could I have taken a different path?
I wanted a soul mate, one that can feel my cold hands.
Her hands were pillows,
Ones that would engulf my oblivious cries
Infatuation? A relationship to end how it started.
I think.
A friend I knew years ago, his name is religion, last name Christianity.
I took a stroll down memory lane, only for it to become my saving grace.
I'm at a dead stand, sitting sorrowful and sorry, grasping a knife, about to end my life,
My problems
My struggles
My dignity
My passion
A hand reached out, no face, no identity, 'it' was as white as.. Almost like being born again.
'D-
Did I make it out alive? '
Clatter…
Drip, Drip, Drip.
The sound of blood,
I think,
I thought,
I discovered
I was NOT, but the last tear, I was sentimental...
There will be more.
But now I know, at least somebody… an embodiment had heard.