Night light

I think about death all the time.

Death feels about right.

When I can no longer feel the light.

What’s the point to stay?

The sun is what made my day.

I hold on to all my disdain.

Pray it washes with the rain.

Or for some kind of deliverance from the pain.

Sitting by the window pane.

Wonder why I ever came.

I love the air just not so much today.

Not when I’m surrounded by the crisp wind but I still suffocate.

Who left me so sedate?

Who be so vague to bring me to create?

I am no muse.

Though I seem a object for abuse.

Tell me again, what is there to lose?

My mind,  thought by thought,  a millisecond at a time.

What did I ever find?

To think I could get through life.

Why am I too stubborn to die?

When every one is aiming for my life.

Next time I shouldn’t think twice?

Habits are hard to kick and next time passes me by.

Another point to prove I’m living a lie.

Not even in my mind can I get it right.

Who turned off the light?

 

 

© Zianna Libardo Valexia Valtero, 2016

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