Cradled in sheets of dismay
Pull them over my face
To blot out these shades of anger and grey
Amber and ashes brush over,
the blanketed form of silhouetted tears
As if this (I) need you now
More like yesterday
Or every other day,
spread between and slipping,
through thorn intoxicated fingers
Bury a face into the pillow,
that slowly turns these tears to ash
Don’t wake up
Just can’t pull this away
Frustration dancing idly upon the brow
Pencil smashing,
and the lead spreads like poison…
Dear Black Goodbye,
I write this now
Thanks for the frustration,
and puppet strung tears
All the limitation,
and lies you made me fear
Don’t forget to write
--The sickened one
Wake up now
Maybe it’s over
Just tell me…”It’s ok to die”
Keep singing the lullaby
And now it’s over…
“It’s ok to die.”
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