A Note From The Abyss. Poem by MIRAK Montiel

'A Note from the Abyss'

Sweetheart,
I've been sleepwalking through a nightmare
since the day I abandoned the man I was becoming.
Forty winters folded into my skin—
forty years of silence screaming
until I became every shadow
I used to run from.

Tears forgot the road down my face.
Even sorrow left me here,
empty as an unmarked grave.
I don't cry.
I just sit—
a body stitched to a chair—
watching hours die quietly
like birds with broken wings.

The sun forgot my name.
The stars lost their place in my sky.
Nights stretch out like open wounds,
and dreams?
They leapt off cliffs I once called hope,
dragging pieces of me behind them.

And I ask—
When does this road end?
Is the exit near?
Do I cut the cord and step off?
Or do I chase that last breath of wind,
run,
fly my kite of wishes,
and see if it can still reach the stars?

They call it depression.
They call me negative.
But they don't hear me screaming
in silence.
This is not drama.
This is the echo of a man on fire
without flames.

So I wrote a note,
with hands that shook like condemned prayers,
to those who ever loved me—
I'm sorry.
Not just for the giving up on you,
but for giving up on myself,
on the boy who once believed
he could be more.

If this is goodbye,
let it be known:
I didn't want to die—
I just couldn't figure out
how to live
in this kind of pain.