I like the stillness
The unmoving quiet that settles the dust
I like the unspeaking the unfeeling
The unbreathing of this coffin-bed
I like the lack of worry
The lack of responsibility, the lack of life.
And so it seems, in the dark we hide our true selves,
Mine fat with the greed of self-revision.
I like the hazy hues of black-blue,
The darkness, the inevitable self-awareness.
I am unable to stitch myself in it’s pieces back together,
I have given into this world and it's need for flesh.
But I like the way I settle in this sleep,
A slumber the weight of ten ton bricks.
As I quietly remove myself from this life to the next.
