ways of slowly dying ~ poetry

beforecast

can someone tell the sky

there's been enough crying

for tonight?

can you be the someone?

can i be that sky?

i've been telling on myself all my life.

and i've been told lies all the while :

that every stifled sigh turns into a cloud

every withheld word becomes a prayer

which a winged plague sings abrasing

a country whose hungers have aged into acids.

i've been told my blurs are halos

and i, the immutable dumbfuck, believed them.

here's another lie : i'm already in

your heart, do a little dance and

i'll drop down into your pants.

i won't tell on myself this time.

only this time. and then the next.

~ ajay

24/12/2022