Troublesome

I died many years ago.
My heart lying on the table.
Pricked and pierced by your many fables.
Blackened and hard I became.
Giving way to death and destruction.
Wanting to cut my veins or blow out my brains.
I could not feel anymore.
Numb to everything.
Tried to snort or smoke the pain away.
I could not find a happy place.
Death so inviting.
The barrel in my mouth.
Daddy! I hear Daddy!
And light would appear.
I put away the gun again.
Remembering my place.
That my children need me to live.
I must provide for them.