Caress my brow as I lay in fever,

Telling me the madness will pass.

Filling my head with hopes for tomorrow,

But tomorrow never comes, 

Today is all that’s given. No promise,

To see the moon again.

Spinning the revolver one more time,

Press the question to the temple.

Pull the trigger, knowing full well the impact

Of words against the frail psyche.

As I sit in the shallows,

Letting the anger wash over me,

Telling myself that redemption

Is one step deeper, till I dive

Into the deep. Coming up for air

Eventually isn’t an option as I search

For the depths of your depravity.

Washed ashore, ashamed 

I wasn’t strong enough 

To brave the undertow. 


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