He was just browsing through his stuff on a random, boring night. He opened his drawer and there he saw an old, hard-bound notebook. He read and saw and remembered that year – that time when He kept his writings all to himself. That time when he felt sad. That time when He felt all alone.
He had friends. He had a lot of friends. He lived alone but his friends lived nearby. He had just started a relationship. He was busy with College. He was an officer in so many school organizations. He was always busy. He spends the entire day running from one class to another, one meeting after the other, spending time with his girl, spending time with his friends. He would go home late, do his home works and yet after each passing day, every single night, he couldn’t sleep. He would drink his ice-cold, black coffee and he would write.
He doesn’t feel empty. He feels lonely. He just feels lonely. Nothing would seem to fill-up the loneliness inside of him. He once thought of ending everything. He even wrote letters to everyone. He was decided. He finished all the letters and folded it neatly. He was ready. He thought of how to end things but couldn’t find the best way to do it. Slashing was bloody. He hates blood. Hanging would take a lot effort. He didn’t have the rope. Overdosing was out of the question. He doesn’t have any type of meds in his house. After thinking on how to end his life. He sat down feeling — lonely. Giving up, he just forced himself to sleep.
When he woke up, the sun was up. He started with his usual routine – took a shower, made coffee, smoked a ciggie, ate breakfast, got ready for school. Here, he would be busy. Here, he would be smiling. Here, he would be laughing. Here, it disguised the loneliness he felt into something else.
6 years after he wrote this poem, he was glad he couldn’t decided on which is the best way to die. He read the poem. He remembered how terrible it was. He remembered writing each line. He remembered every single detail of that night. He remembered each line except for the last. He read it today and he doesn’t remember writing nor thinking about that last line.
FACADE
Extrovert
In so many ways
Not in my own problems
I tell what’s on my mind
Sometimes, being too blunt
I try to handle things
On my own
Not wanting to be a burden
To everyone
Branded as a counselor
I solve people’s concerns
Listening to everyone
My own stays here
Unsolved
Accumulating
Breaking down in a corner
Only witness is God
Laughing with everyone
No one notices
Solitary worker
Helping everyone
Always thinking-I can solve this on my own
In reality
I guess I need all of you
Scared of everything collapsing
Everything shattered
One by one
Holding onto a single post
Now collapsing on me
Don’t wanna be buried in debris
Now, I cry for your help
He cried for help. He doesn’t remember if anyone did help. He realized, everything could change. He’s happy now. After 6 years, someone unexpected rescued him and he didn’t even know it until today.
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