Ending Poem
It’s a jail cell of a chronicle
The death of my demise
A trick of time, a finish line
A promise turned to lies
A greyhound spine of heart attacks
Entombed by numbered ribs
And inky paragraphs of pain
See organs and call dibs
Attrition keeps me dying slow
To give up would be quick
My skin is running cold with sweat
My body’s hot and slick
A racetrack of disease is here
I feel them doing laps
My tendons burn, my muscles flare
I take a lot of naps.
My friends all come and visit me
My family does that too
The time I spend alone in here
I dream and think of you
I’m turning now inside myself
Like plants toward the light
I feel the battle ending soon
But still I fight and fight
The one thing that they do not say
The one unspoken lie
The fact they never say in books:
It’s tiring to die.
tags
The death of my demise
A trick of time, a finish line
A promise turned to lies
A greyhound spine of heart attacks
Entombed by numbered ribs
And inky paragraphs of pain
See organs and call dibs
Attrition keeps me dying slow
To give up would be quick
My skin is running cold with sweat
My body’s hot and slick
A racetrack of disease is here
I feel them doing laps
My tendons burn, my muscles flare
I take a lot of naps.
My friends all come and visit me
My family does that too
The time I spend alone in here
I dream and think of you
I’m turning now inside myself
Like plants toward the light
I feel the battle ending soon
But still I fight and fight
The one thing that they do not say
The one unspoken lie
The fact they never say in books:
It’s tiring to die.
tags