Until now I'd lost all hope in reason

Blankets of disaster tighten the rope

Swift is the pain, happiness is treason

The darkest valleys have the smoothest slope

Something steals time, I find myself shortchanged

Within the trade minutes steal miles unseen

I see that fate surely became deranged

Leaving me to know that I'm still unclean

Darkness becomes ideal from depths below

Twisting twirling compensating the lie

Hope in more than myself lets loose the crow

Winged beast hungry for souls will not comply

Although fallen heroes cancel decay

I find strength in being risen from pain

Today is my birthday and I’m singing the birthday blues

I opened my email and got notice from you

That we are through – that’s all I got from your miserly soul

Guess it saves you some money to bypass a gift

But the only legacy that I have ever wanted from you

was the love you withheld, tied up neatly in a bundle

holding your lifeblood cushioned in bubble wrap.

I can grasp that your largess is being saved

for someone else but what can she give that I cannot?

Nothing but novelty which you will soon outgrow

so I baked my own cake with candles and chocolate frosting

Wept at the memories I would not ever have with you

and threw it along with our treasured photos into the trash

where it would reside until I got rid of the garbage of you.

You selfish bastard.

I went to your funeral

I met your grieving family

I fed them, I comforted them,

I humored them, I lied to them,

I followed them to the cemetary,

and I stood by as they buried you.

You don't even care, do you?

You only left suffering...

and yet, they still love you.

they still miss you.

You selfish bastard.

If it was your life, it was

Your life to give, not to take.

Packs of wolves chewed my bones, 

Then they gnawed my skull. 

Ate my fat after that, 

Leaving naught at all. 

Didn’t mind those brutal acts 

That met me in despair. 

What’s bothersome was doing that 

Before they said their prayers. 

Are you happy?

What an innocent thing to be asked.

Yet we're so quick to respond,

For we fear the truth will come out,

If we take too long.

We often overlook it as just another question.

The answer is so convoluted and complex,

Reflecting what we took from life's lessons.

Yet it carries the weight of the world.

Our world.

With an answer no one will understand,

Plagued by the lack of effort,

By those who don't really care if they can.

...

So are you happy?

I ask the one for who this is written for.

For the one who took the time to read.

For the one who braved the deep alone,

And in the dark began to ask.

Is you heart satisfied with its current state?

Or does the heart burn for more?

...

We are the hangman tying the rope.

We are the executioner in the black hood.

We are the harbingers of our own demise.

It's easy to paint over our unhappiness,

And behind the mask is where it hides,

Only for it to evolve into something we despise.

Whether this knowledge comes now,

Or whether it comes later,

The results will always remain the same,

When it's the outside hearts we're willing to cater.