(un)titled farewell

i don’t know what tomorrow holds, but i know it isn’t hope, this feeling that stirs in my guts, like a swarm of angry hornets, stinging nettles and broken spirit

i have a sickness, a cancer, a life defying tumor, tar black where there once was light

my friends are gone, my dreams are gone, my chances are gone, my will is gone, gone gone like the fleeting winds of summer, all is gone and abandoned on the salty seas of the slowly dying

devoid of meaning, empty like a prayer, lost like reason, another burnt out candle in the window, waiting like a sad child for his father to come home not knowing he is turned to ash in a cardboard box with a small metal coin that says this was once a viable living thing

now at least you don’t have to worry about making excuses, finding a way to ignore, to put yourself first, to extend the empty meaningless gestures that are so much easier than actual help

let the sick take me, file me away as the last hopeless daydream of childhood turned to adolescence, purity sacrificed for whatever small measure of comfort you found in watching another curl up in a ball and fade away

maybe i was never really here, just a sad sack of broken glass where promise once lay, turned festering wound in the cold dark earth, mother’s mercy lost on the listless dreamer

it will be fine, it is fine, like granules of sand slipping down into the void of icy regret, it is my fault for holding out that i meant more to you than just a passing thought in the center of a maelstrom

i am done, unable to sleep after days of falling apart, a part of nothing, a bit of dander, a fluff of pollen, grit in the eyes of gods

this isn’t a final gasp for the surface but a last look before i sink, the teary eyed stare isn’t for what has happened but a last glance at all that ran away

kinetic turns to potential turns to just another stray atom vibrating at a frequency on a register beyond caring

at least the sorrow never turned away, the depression held on when everything else faded into a glorious sunset

4 thoughts on “(un)titled farewell

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