I entered the brain
Of a madmen of 24

There were reasons I wanted
To leave and to stay

The flowers were wilting but
Seeds fell from its dead bud of red

I saw death give birth to life
And it had the scent of a rose

I never want to give up my
Last breath of air to the reaper

He can keep my old shoes, my
Old suits, hats, and beepers

But, my last breath, that is for
Me and me only

It's never quite right, he said, the way people look,
the way the music sounds, the way the words are
written.
It's never quite right, he said, all the things we are
taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we
die, all the lives we live,
they are never quite right,
they are hardly close to right,
these lives we live
one after the other,
piled there as history,
the waste of the species,
the crushing of the light and the way,
it's not quite right,
it's hardly right at all
he said.

don't I know it? I
answered.

I walked away from the mirror.
it was morning, it was afternoon, it was
night

nothing changed
it was locked in place.
something flashed, something broke, something
remained.

I walked down the stairway and
into it.