(no subject)
this is it, this is my last poem.
tomorrow or next week, maybe two years from now, i'll be beaten to death outside of
a bar, or be found drowned in my own vomit.
my heart could stop beating after i finish writing this sentence.
who knows?
but when the great puppeteer in the sky pulls my strings for the final time i'll be ready.
fuck, i've been ready for 4 years now. waiting, hoping, regretting.
now this is my last request; for you to think not of me as friend or foe, lover or
despot because i am all of these things and so much more.
and in writing this last poem i'd like you to know that, because even with all of
these things i am or am not, written or unspoken, as a poet please do not remember me.
and tomorrow i'll be gone, for better or for worse.
and that is all you'd need to know, perhaps.
tomorrow or next week, maybe two years from now, i'll be beaten to death outside of
a bar, or be found drowned in my own vomit.
my heart could stop beating after i finish writing this sentence.
who knows?
but when the great puppeteer in the sky pulls my strings for the final time i'll be ready.
fuck, i've been ready for 4 years now. waiting, hoping, regretting.
now this is my last request; for you to think not of me as friend or foe, lover or
despot because i am all of these things and so much more.
and in writing this last poem i'd like you to know that, because even with all of
these things i am or am not, written or unspoken, as a poet please do not remember me.
and tomorrow i'll be gone, for better or for worse.
and that is all you'd need to know, perhaps.