Sunday, November 15, 2015

In order to say goodnight

I used to think of ways to die
to see the ones I wanted, 
their faces of regret;
maybe a kind hand reaching out
as my body fell to the ground.

This approach no longer works
as there is no string left to pull,
no faces left to picture;
now my future is my lullaby,
all its deep-shadowed nothingness.