I stand alone with the lights turned out,
reaching for the existance that I want on my fingertips.

I hear the voices through the darkness call me strange,
i feel my whole body grow cold,
like someone touched me frozen.

I breathe out good and intake evil,
for it reeks with their hate throughout the dark air,
I knew then,
that I was not home.

I can never speak of my excuses for my attempted suicide,
and I drowned in the darkness that sent a wave through me.

My hands will never stretch out toward the darkness again
because I've become whatever they've told me I will,
and I watched the world devour in flames,
the only light I saw,
were the flames.

Elizabeth Tyease Collins

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dark-28/