Martyr

Today, I’ll wait, still, nothing new.
And here I am, still, bleeding
I’ve done a hundred things to get to you
Yet here I am, still, waiting
Suicide’s no longer the answer for me
Even though I know now that forever’s soon
All thanks to you and your malevolent games
And glare, I do, at the thought of you
And your sickening words, ones I believed
Ones that twisted my frown more than slightly
And made me feel quite differently—
I took your words, the bloody words, to heart

Now I weep, here, still
Sickened by the deceiving past
Frightened by the future’s tricks
And the present’s findings
And I wonder if, and how I’ll make it
As well as what it is to “make it”
And how to go about achieving such a feat
And how this game called life is to be played
But, why worry? All that’s needed is to beat three
Less—two and a half and I’ll be there
Long and filled with obstacles, they will be
But the wait will be worth the plight