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.