Night Blind

Solid fingers-
Those tepid streams devour
Me.
Salt pounds my lips
In a heightening persuasion,
My time is up.

Rip life out
Through tattered sheets.
Unveil this truth that life does not go on,
No, not from here.

When the mellow hum of your hollow soul
Drowns out each deafening scream of
Me.

When you don't bother to hear, or stop to see,
That I am only half of what I
Used to be,
Just pale, and bones.

When you don't notice
That I pass out, fall over, hallucinate.

When you laugh
Because you think I mean to.

When I scream out for help
Past your bedtime,
When your walls are too thick
And you sleep in peace.

When the mirror is shattered
Because I cannot look anymore…not
At this abandoned tomb,
At these silent eyes
That only watch
And cry.

Time is up and I flow away
Warm drips
Across the tepid tile.

I slowly find my way
Through the door into the winter air.
The cold pierces my catacomb with the numbing truth.

I take my last, hollow breath
Feel the heat embrace
Fade out,
As you come running.

Crack my powdered bones
As you reach to remember
Your ignorance,
And realize,
I can be selfish too.

Ask again
And again
Who do you blame…
As I disintegrate in the palm of your trembling hands
And whisper so softly in dying words,
Your time is up.