[poem] something borrowed, something blue

[kaberett]

Content note for suicidal ideation beneath the cut (not current).

somewhen in this last handful of years
I find I've changed my mind
about the questions that I ask the world
wrapped tight within the darkest depths of dawn.

it used to be I'd think: can I be dead
yet now it seems I'd rather pleading say
please, make this world one where it is alright
that I exist. please, someone, somehow, make this all okay.

it's progress, of a kind, if still bereft
of comfort; faith; of heartsease and of joy;
but not of hope -- for, after all, I find
that I can be that someone, day by day.