Not Knowing

What’s worse than dying is not knowing.

The fear, the hatred, it’s growing.

Not knowing if they were really telling the truth.

Or if it was all a giant spoof.

Not knowing if that was the last ever goodbye.

Or if that was the last ever tear they would cry.

Not knowing what lies ahead.

Or what monsters are under your bed.

But maybe the monsters aren’t under your bed.

Maybe they’re all inside your head.

Creeping around in the darkness of your dreams.

They don’t look dangerous, or at least that’s what it seems.

They slowly wrap their icy fingers around your body.

Then they consume your arms and move on, leaving them bloody.

After leaving your arms all cut and torn, they move on to your mind.

The monsters destroy everything they can find.

When they get to your head, you feel as though you don’t want to be living.

Even your bloody arms agree, you don’t want to keep breathing.

With leaving your head all destroyed and black, it moves on to the purest of what’s left.

Your heart which is the only thing untouched.

They ravage and destroy it making you become aloof.

Your friends leave and that’s all you need for proof.

Your heart turns black and you don’t want to hurt anyone.

You don’t want to, but you do, then you’re done.

You retreat back into darkness.

Do you have the strength, is it something you posses?

You get the tool, then begin to cry.

You text your one good friend goodbye.

They read it, then start worrying.

It makes a full circle and you put them through the pain

Of not knowing.