Falling*

                          That’s the sensation.

                                                     ­             You don’t feel the *pain
                                                          ­                            or hear a slowing heartbeat.

You see
lights,
pretty
little
fairy
lights.

You start to


remember


all of the

things
you
lost.
The
places
­ you
hid
and
how
to


escape.


You
want
it
to
just
                                                          ­ end.
Maybe
you’ll
finally
find
what
was
always
missing.
Maybe
you
won’t.
Maybe
you
will.
You
may
never
ever
know.




You have formed
a suicide pact
                                                            ­                          *for one.

Your ego
is about
as fragile
as glass.
And
I'd rather
cut myself
on the shards
than piece it
back
together.
And
I may be
"crazy"
but
at least
I'm not
you.

What took you so long?
What's left of you now?

If I lay
Still in
The darkness
Of night
I can hear the
Rhythmic sound
Of the clock
I time in
My mind
The tic after the
Last tock
The soothing
Sound of
Chimes
Singing in
The wind
Even the
Churning of
My stomach
Making rounds
The yapping of
A dog far
Down.
The street
Stillness fills
The air
And an angel's
Sigh
Waiting to.
Be heard

To be soft and suffering
Is sometimes the best way to get through.