The lucky one

How long has it been?

I have

lost count

of the days.

How long?

the lodger in my head

cries out

wanting release

-demanding it.

I refuse.

When will it

all

     stop?

I can’t

keep going

on like this.

Make

                   it

      stop.

In the quiet embrace of night

I long for it

the release,

the pain

self-inflicted punishment.

It’s been so long.

Why won’t they stop?

Why won’t I stop?

Sleepless nights evolving,

transmutating,

into something darker,

uglier,

the lodger grows in power.

So I

flood them

with

pills

upon

pills

upon

pills.

And somehow

I’m the

“lucky one.”

Somehow I survived

showing

no

sign

of

what

happened.

Somehow

that makes me lucky.

People mistake the current for the past

telling me

“You survived.”

How can I

tell them

I’m still trying to?

Somehow, I’m still here,

Howling

“Why”

into the night’s embrace.

Sobbing as I ask

“how long?”

The night is cruel.

she does not answer.