Perfection of Darkness: The Fourth Book of Poems

Verse Twenty Nine: Off the Edge

The ground doesn't shake

My eye lids always close

Veering and turning

The bodies don't make noises

Only when they lie still

But I hear the rope

I hear their fading breaths

Before I fade myself

Hanging onto nothing any more

Forgot why I was even born

I'm sick of the light

There's no place for you

I'm sick of the darkness

You're just taking up space

~

Intangible thoughts

Drawn out on paper

Intangible feelings

Shown in death

The bodies make noises when they hit the trees

The only sound of death is the gunshot

But I see them dying

Before I die myself

Finally let go

Now I'm falling

Spiraling into a sweet nothing

I'm off the edge

So don't grab my hand

~

I hate everything about this

But you love everything about me

The words I'd wish you say

The words I speak everday

Let me close my eyes

I've let tears run down a scarred path

When everything dead comes alive

~

A ringing in my head

The sound of the end

I've finally let go

So don't grab my hand

I'm off the edge

Slowy descending away

When I hit the ground

Will I feel the tears you'd never shed before?

I'm off the edge

I've learned to let go

Once I've been pushed

I'll hang

Then I'll fall when it's time