Wednesday, February 26, 2014

musing on lives lived and died

depression was my mistress
always there to comfort me as i retired to my bed
reveling in my darkness
the loneliness never left but i was never alone

a lobotomy would have rendered these vibrant pictures i paint with the bleakest of colors a valued commodity
but since the flowers i sent for algernon never finished their journey
should my life end prematurely too?

tomorrow is a new day
sayeth she and he and they and the doctor
'well thats very clear' i politely reply
'but id rather die a violent and fiery death right now'

self-immolation had never been so trendy
i cry out between sobs
'do you love me yet'
the answer was a earsplitting silence

'one last kiss' i beg her as she puts on her clothes
'one last surge of inspiration'
she smiles at me and walks out the door
i look beside me and see the rest of my life measured out in sets of two pills-- a parting gift

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