ex facto


i would prefer
a slow, methodical death
in sunbeams
a single breath
seems
to take hours from my seconds
alone
in a styrofoam
cup i roam
like hot liquid
melting myself in vivid
rainbow swirls
while disappointed girls
listen to the sound
within
my proud horror
my
love of war
and sorrow
the empty promises
i borrow

i would prefer
a delicate implosion
for closure
than to carry on
caricatured
by memories
of wanton words
and melodies
in wayward thoughts
of sacrifice

it would suffice
to let this be
for i prefer
no longer me
but sadly i
endure somehow;
i haven’t time to end this now.




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