i will go softly into the new year
hiding from the night before the clock strikes twelve
i will be asleep
buried six feet in my bed
a silent suffocation
a quiet crime
i wish i could gather some bravery
watch the time tick tick twelve and feel something close to fireworks settle in my stomach
but i know
that the stones that live between my ribs will pull my body down
and my blankets will pile like dirt
and my pillows will hold my breath in place
and i will go softly
i will go without a fight
there is so much weight that resides in my chest
and it whispers to me
that in this new year
perhaps it is better to be a ghost