Trigger warning this poem talks about attempt of suicide please don't ever do these things I don't endorse it I'm having a shitty day and I do want to end it all and hurt myself but this is better even if I feel death would be better.

I look up at the moon.

My only friend.

The only one who will listen.

I tell him everything.

Some days I just want to end it all.

I feel the wind blowing on my face as if the moon is responding.

As if he's trying to say something.

As if he's trying to console me.

It's getting harder and harder to stay alive dear moon.

As if in response to it I feel a gentle breeze.

As if he's saying to stay strong.

I start tearing up.

Oh dear moon I just want to end it all.

He again responds with a gentle breeze.

As if he's saying don't leave me.

I pull down my long sleeves covering my fresh scars.

In response I get a harsh yet gentle breeze.

As if he's demanding to know what I'm hiding.

It's not important dear moon.

Again I'm greeted with a gentle breeze as if he's saying it doesn't.

This may be the last time we speak dear moon.

In response I feel a strong yet gentle breeze as if he's telling me to stay.

I get up and sit on the ledge of the cliff and looking at the moon.

It's so lonely dear moon.

In response I feel a strong gust of wind trying to push me away from the ledge.

As if trying to prevent me from jumping.

Lonely are those who don't follow the media dear moon.

The wind nips at me as if trying to tell me to stay true to my personal beliefs.

I've lost everything due to that dear moon.

Again the wind nips me gently as if saying I'm still here.

Look at me I must be insane talking to something that can't hear me thinking it's responding to me.

I must be crazy.

I feel as if someone or something is behind me, holding me but when I turn around nothing is there.

I am going crazy.

This is goodbye my beloved moon.

I push myself off the ledge and for a moment I'm falling.

I feel free.

But it's snatched away from me when I start to float back up.

I cry in frustration.

Dear moon why are you intervening.

Why won't you just let me die!

Everyone would be better off if I was.

What's the use of living if I'm considered a racist for questioning sketchy organizations?

Considered a racist for questioning why the little kids were killed in riots.

I reach for the knife in my jacket pocket.

In my haste I cut my finger.

I don't care about that tho.

I plunge the knife in my chest or at least I try to.

Alas my knife is flung out over the cliff.

I cry out!

I yell out at whatever is doing this.

I look down crying.

I don't know when but bandages.

No bandage wrapping like that of a mummy's appears near my feet.

I wonder when that happened.

I see a stick?

No it's a staff.

I look up and see a moon atop the staff.

No it was a crescent moon.

I keep looking up and see this creature with a bird skull.

I must be crazy now.

Please just end my pathetic life.

I tell the creature.

No I begged the creature.

It?

He?

Whatever the thing is kneels down and gets on my level

Oh, little one. The one who spills her woes and sorrows to the moon.

His voice is a deep booming voice.

Why do you keep intervening?

Isn't it obvious? You've been keeping me company. I've never had anyone talk to me like you have.

What do you mean?

Oh my dear starlight, I am the moon. You can call me Khonshu. Won't you please keep me company? Come to my palace and you'll never be alone. Such a precious gift like you doesn't deserve a fate like this. I promise you will never be alone.

His hands draw near and wipe my tears away

I hesitant for a moment but then I nod.

The palace was such a wonderful sight and he kept to his promise.

Liz/Numa