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.