I have redefined misery. I have re-memorized terror.
I have been down the rabbit hole of pitch black despair.
I am still falling, past mirrors and bits of past,
plunging in the blackness that seems to ever last.
There is no help coming, I’m all on my own,
falling towards the Red Queen and her skull-crest throne.
I call out for my Mom, I look out for my Dad,
the people who’s love and thoughts I’ve always had,
I search for my sister, I shout through the air,
and it’s then that I realize, that no one is there.
No one can come with me, this pitch is too black,
and no one can save me, I have to find a way back.
But the doctors cannot cure me, they can’t even tell me what went wrong,
and this fall in the darkness is so very, very long.
I know the bottom is coming, I’m sure to hit it, SPLAT,
and there, at my lowest, when I’m sprawled out flat,
maybe I’ll see a God there, maybe I’ll find a light,
but really I just have a question, one that wakes me in the night:
Why did this happen? Why me, what’d I do, how’d this come to pass?
Did I practice some sin against a Pantheon of God’s
who’s names I forgot from class?
I don’t care now, if I’m not cured, I don’t care if I die in tar,
just get me to the bottom, still so very very far,
so I can ask my questions to the earthworms in that grave,
“What was my point, who was I supposed to save?”

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