Of all the suicide pacts I make with myself this is the one I like the best...
I think: that up to this point…hmm, funny; I have now stopped thinking…
Which is how I find my breath talking to me;
And that is when I stop looking around looking for my birthday or some such other that can satisfy me and begin the come-down of another day,
Lost on the ranch of despair that grovels out of my guts of honey and hate to eat itself back up into some academic love thing.
Am I here for despair?
I think not.
But now, on this edge of the night I want to hear something nice that doesn’t break me open…
Are these the bits and pieces of some cruel tale come to bite us, you say?
Are we that deceived?
Is it time to howl now?
No, it is now time for coffee.
Image from Pixabay
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