A Wish To Turn Off The Sun

It was the blank space within that fueled
his sadness.
But if there was nothing there,
what could there be to be sad about?

What drove him to constantly question
himself and how others saw him
or didn’t see him?
If there was nothing there, what drove
them away?

How could nothing be such a force in
his life?
How could nothing make him so
different?

But he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt
this way.
He would see them gather, see them at least
pair up
with someone alike.

But where was his someone?
Not just anyone, but someone?

For at first he thought anyone would do.
For far too long, he searched for anyone but
found no one willing,
no one he cared for, who wanted to stay.

For who he cared for was repulsed by him.
For they could sense the monster within him
and they desired no company with the monster,
not realizing
they could chase away
the monster
simply with their presence.

And so because he was left alone, he was left
with this unreal monster
who became his only friend.
But this monster was emptiness, so what was there
to call friend?

The last person he called friend
made him think he really could be understood.
The last person he called friend
made him believe he really could feel love.

The last person he called friend
made him want to dream impossible things.
The last person he called friend
was the last.

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