Densely clouded days and nights
No light can shine in that deep darkness
Penetrating cold that incapacitates
Flames extinguished by anguish
Ghosts of what I once was
Fill me up
I’m looking for you
My father’s words bash against my already throbbing skull.
“If I could just push a button and die I would do it.”
Thanks Pa. Sickness hasn’t dampened your aptitude for emotional blackmail.
I just stopped by to see if I could make dinner for you or take out the trash.
And good old ma… You haven’t changed a bit as you fiddle with your hearing aid shouting, “We are both doing fine. Everything is fine!”
Death on their breath.
Or is that the stench of regret, guilt, selfishness, and shit?
Constipation in every sense.
Holding back tears as they suck the marrow from my bones.
Shivering tenebrous shadow
Fleeting moments of contentment
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