a vague smile on my lips,
i shed the moonlight tears
for the last time.
the knife was at my wrist,
blade smooth and sleek
and lovely bright
against my punctured
torn and gasping skin.
knowing not what to say,
i whispered my final words
--of frightening laughter
tribulating sunsets
tongueless recitations--
to my sole companion,
my only lasting friend,
the sweet and swooning blade.
perhaps if i closed my eyes
tomorrow would not come again.
perhaps if i closed my eyes
the voices would dance away,
a helpless pirouette,
a shining minuet
into the distant darkness
and vanish from my
tortured soul.
the white floor became
dyed with crimson
and my soul spilled out
consciencelessly
into the hollow abyss.
imprisoned without a window
into the serenity of truth
i thought to myself,
perhaps if i closed my eyes
tomorrow would not come again.
today as well i found hopeless
and void of soliciting promise
--a gentle spinning hand
to cup my disillusionment
and disembowel my distress--
and i cast today into the death.
forever unchanging, ashes
fluttering over my gushing wrist
and wavering eyelids,
would tomorrow come after all?
no, i thought to myself.
dizzy saccharine autumn
vowed a simple solace,
a heavy thinning forgiveness.
no, i thought to myself.
perhaps if i closed my eyes,
tomorrow would not come again.