Hooks in my back
Are shredding my flesh.
Stretching me in every direction.
Pulling my spirit through the holes.

Each time I try to fight,
I win back an inch,
Just to get yanked back—
With more pain than before.

Tonight is the night
Where I plan the changes
To become the person
I dream of being.

I’ll wake up tomorrow,
Leap out of bed,
Make the world my oyster,
And break my chains.

I can’t wait
Until my alarm hits,
And the cobwebs shake free.
But boy—
my bed is real comfy.

The ultimate fantasy
Is a burst of clarity.

Having it cut through brain fog,
Like sunlight through the treetops.

Opening your mind’s window,
Whose locks were painted shut.

Becoming the vision in your head,
Instead of the object in the way.

There is a sweeping wind
Blowing over the hills,
From the tips of redwoods,
Down to the sage in the valley,
Looking to blow away the dust of today,
And bring in the ash of tomorrow.

Everything is changing so fast,
And I’m just a speck of dirt,
On the foul tile floor,
Being swept into the bin.

My only hope is
To catch on a crack,
And get one more second
To soak it all in.

On this journey,
I’ll hold your hand,
And dip your toes in first,
So you don’t feel too much.

I’ll bring your yellow blanket
With the soft ridges, and
The coffee stain from
That Christmas.

No, I won’t forget to bring
The picture of your dad
In the garage, wearing blue Levi’s
During his last summer.

When the sun descends,
And rests just above the horizon,
I’ll sweep your brittle hair back,
And kiss your forehead.

With the orange glow
Bouncing off your eyes,
We’ll watch it disappear,
And soon be together again.

There is a certain peace
In staring over the edge,
Into the void,
And seeing the ruined path
Laid out for lost souls,
Curving and bending, through
The barren trees of time,
And frozen dust of space.

Seeing that path,
Feeling its ridges dig into your toes,
And the pull, like an anvil
In the pit of your stomach,
Trying to tip you over the edge.

Making eye contact with
Your maker and theirs,
Feeling the icy chill of finality,
And call of the sirens
In your tired spine.
Knowing that you control
Whether to take the first step.