Silhouette

And so, I was all alone.¹
Weary and sad, wanting to fade away.
And I won’t lie to myself: my soul in a frenzy, bewitched by the devil;
    Make me capable of something I pray.
    Only to be unheard, seeking the unattainable, I stay.

Love? But whom?
    To put on a façade, but it would rather kill me.
    But to love unconditionally — I plea.

Have hope? But why?
    Only to drown myself in time’s evil cadence.
    Only to poison my heart — if I have one.

Better relive, might there be a chance;
Better exhaust my misery and pain;
Better not exist.

Because I realize I’m empty.
Because I realize I long for something — someone special to me.

For I see it smiling at me, perhaps a hallucination.
In its dark composure, eternally dismayed, almost pitying me.
It seeks out sweetly, unlike anyone ever;
It leads me through the winter.

And why haven’t I realized yet.
For it is just like me, brimming with a grim bliss deep within;
Its heart banished — waiting…

Because now I realize I’m not alone.
Because there seems to be hope — and if I have hope I might be capable of loving.

Like words, poorly written, found meaning;
Like a void so deep, yet so stark, found its end;
Like a broken soul found its heart;
And thus, in the silhouette, I found me.

I wrote this poem as a desire — and challenge — to write something out of the ordinary, hence the back-and-fourth structure. The poem touches concepts of duality through its structure, and existentialism and nihilism through the speaker’s reflection on their life.