Dissappear

Yes, I know I’m busy,
But I can handle it, I can.
What’s that? Emotions?
Why, they’re a myth. 
I can do it, I can.
I know what I’m doing;
I’m in control.

            But then a whisper:

                              Why?

Whatever are you talking about?

                              Why? Why them, why us? Why?

Come now, no time for this foolishness,
We have things to do.

                              Why?

          And then a shudder.
          And then a shadow of a sob,

                              Why?

Snap out of it, no time for this!

                              Why? Why?
Shut up!  SHUT UP!
                              Why so much hate?
                              Why so much pain?
                              How can you simply carry on?
                              How, when you know only one way to let
                                  your inside out?
                              How, when all you know to do is try to
                                  transfer the pain,
                              As best you can,
                              From inside to out,
                              Intangible to tangible?
                              How?

Not true! NOT TRUE!
Come now, we’ve got things to do!

                            Why? How? Why?
                            What point is there?
                            Let me go, just let me go,
                            Eternal rest, eternal sleep,
                            Let me go to the abyss,
                            The abyss of oblivion.
                            Let me go.

NO!

            And the tears, which for so long refused to come
            Finally arrived,
            And she buried her head in her knees, shaking.

Come now, not so loud
If they hear, they will ask,
What will you tell them?
Allergies?

                              Come now, no more of this,
                              End it now,
                              End it for good.

            So in a fit of fear of being found,
            She dragged herself to a mirror,
            What did she see, this broken baby girl,
            What did she see?

                              A face, a face contorted,
                              Ah, but unawareness is much more
                                  peaceful.

Will the red leave the eyes?
Before a knock comes at the door?


          Her eyes grew wide,
          Hands grasping desperately,
          Reaching, clenching at nothing at all,
          She collapsed.



And there she lies,
          Curled on the floor,
                    Hugging her knees to her chest,
                              As if
                                  trying to
                                            disappear.