Closed-Door Genocide

I can’t tell you

the secret of life.

Sometimes,

I want to finally end it

with that kitchen knife.

Drunken nights

ending in pleasureful delights.

Playing the devil’s hand

I know all,

invincible from your eyes.

“Leave me alone”

is my message

in disguise.

Fear to do

is no reason to stop

let it go

then there will be no more raindrops.

I hate my horrors

the past from which I hide.

To escape

closed-door genocide.

I don’t have that simple fate

with only lemons in the hand

I’ve learned to swallow them whole.