Darkroom

Some Time in April or May

I don't want anybody
to ask if I'm okay.
I don't want to lie.
I'm sick of lying.
I want to die.
I want everybody
to leave me alone,
let me retreat.
Isolation is comforting.
The darkness within me
has me beat.
I don't want to look at anyone.
I don't want to admit anything.
Phantom tears lurking.
I look at myself and it's sickening.